True Destiny
by deepwater1978
Summary: Some may call it destiny. Some may call it meant to be. But I just call it you and me.
1. Chapter 1

_NEW YORK_

 _One year ago…_

His head hurt like a son of a bitch and felt as heavy as an anvil.

Paranormal fire burned in the darkness. Auroras of psi splashed across the ether. The night sky above New York was ablaze with light from across the spectrum. Damon Salvatore gripped the condo balcony railing with both hands, fighting to anchor himself to reality. There were spectacular patterns wherever he looked: wondrous, astonishingly intricate webs of connections and links that illuminated the path back to the heart of the universe.

The dazzling radiance of the midnight world was compelling beyond anything he had ever experienced. He was certain that if he only looked closely enough, he would be able to distinguish the light from the dawn of creation, perhaps even grasp a fistful of the raw power of chaos that fuelled the forces of life and death.

Then he saw a woman lying not far away from him.

He gave a cry of shock when he saw the face.

It was Rose.

Rose was dead.

He stood transfixed, but his brain was scrambling, seeking an explanation for the inexplicable.

The tanned skin had taken on the ashen hue of death. Her lips were the colour of putty. Her eyes, partially open, were beginning to film.

His stupefaction lasted for maybe ten seconds. Perhaps even less. Then he was beside her in a nanosecond, feeling for a pulse. He felt none. Her skin was as cool as marble. Nevertheless, he began giving her CPR.

"Don't waste your time. She is dead." Klaus Mikaelson said.

Damon turned to look at the figure silhouetted in the opening of the sliding-glass doorway. There was something wrong. Klaus looked as if he stood on the other side of a waterfall. It was impossible to focus on him. He held something in his hand but Damon could not make it out.

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked. He was vaguely aware that he sounded drunk. But he was almost positive that he had had only one glass of wine with dinner.

"We both know why I'm here." Klaus moved out of the doorway and went to stand at the railing a short distance away. He kept the object in his hand out of sight against his left leg. "The drug really slammed your senses, didn't it? That's one of the interesting side effects of the drug. The higher the level of talent, the greater the impact. You are literally off the charts on the Salvatore Scale. That makes this new drug the ideal weapon to destroy you without arousing any suspicions. By now you are lost out there on the paranormal plane. There's no coming back from this trip."

"Why did you kill Rose?"

"Nobody could stop me this time."

"She loved you," Damon hissed.

"She loved you too." Klaus' eyes were cold and distant. "She didn't want to see you get hurt. How sweet was that," he said sarcastically.

"You came here to kill me," Damon said. A simple statement of fact, nothing more or less. It was good to know he was still able to think logically.

"I did warn you that one day your talent would be the death of you." Klaus sounded amused. "I'm not alone in that opinion, as I'm sure you're aware. Fortunately, a lot of people are convinced that a chaos theory-talent as powerful as you is doomed. And there have always been those rumours about the men in your family who inherit that aspect of the founder's talent. Everyone knows that Joseph Salvatore was a paranoid whack-job at the end."

"Joseph died more than four hundred years ago," Damon said. "No one knows what really happened to him at the end. And rumours are, by definition, not facts."

"But as you have often pointed out, an interesting rumour always has more influence than a boring fact."

Damon shook his head once and blinked a couple of times, trying to bring Klaus into focus. The small motion caused the universe to shift around him. The disorientation was so fierce now that he had to clench his hand around the balcony railing to stay on his feet.

"Why?" he asked. It was a foolish question. He knew the answer. But for some reason he wanted to hear Klaus put it into words. Then again, that had been the problem all along. He had wanted to believe Klaus Mikaelson.

"I'm afraid there's no other way out." Klaus rested both elbows on the railing and contemplated the night. "You know the gemstone is worth a fortune to certain people. Hell, it's priceless. The new drug has certain hypnotic effects. In addition to creating those fascinating hallucinations you are currently viewing, it makes you vulnerable to suggestion. For example, you feel like taking a walk off this balcony, don't you?"

"No," Damon said again. He tried to move, but when he took a step he stumbled and went down to his knees.

Klaus gestured toward the building across the street. "You know what you should do, Damon? You should cross that crystal bridge. Halfway over, you'll have a terrific view of the heart of the universe. How can you resist?"

Damon tightened his grip on the railing and hauled himself upright. He tried to focus, but the crashing waves of the auroras that lit up the night were too distracting.

"What bridge?" he asked.

"Right there." Klaus pointed. "It leads from this balcony to the roof of the building across the street. Just step over the railing and you will be on your way."

Damon looked down. Strange machines moved on the street below. Lights glowed and flashed. Cars, some part of his brain whispered. Get a grip. You are fourteen floors above the street.

"Don't you see the bridge?" Klaus asked. "It leads to all the answers, Damon. You just follow the crystal brick road to find the wizard."

Damon concentrated. A crystal bridge materialized in the night. The transparent steps were infused with an internal light. He pulled harder on his talent. A fresh tide of energy came from the gemstone in his ring. The bridge brightened and beckoned. But a tiny sliver of awareness sliced through the wonder of the scene.

"Think I have seen that bridge before," he said.

"Yeah?" For the first time Klaus sounded slightly disconcerted. "Where?"

"In the movies. Damn silly plot but the special effects were mildly entertaining."

Klaus chuckled. "Leave it to Damon Salvatore to come up with a logical explanation for a perfectly good hallucination. Well, it was worth a shot. But if you won't do this the easy way, I guess we will have to go with Plan B."

He moved suddenly, bringing up the object in his hand. Damon tried to raise one arm to block the blow, but his muscles would not obey. Instinctively he twisted aside, instead. He lost his balance and went down hard on the tiled floor.

The object Klaus wielded was a hammer. It struck inches away from Damon's head. He heard the crack of the tiles. The entire balcony shuddered with the force of the blow.

"You crazy son of a bitch," Klaus said. He raised the hammer for another blow. "You are supposed to be out of your head by now."

Damon rolled away and reached for more talent. The hammer struck the floor of the balcony again.

He managed to scramble to his feet. The sparkling, iridescent night spun wildly around him.

Klaus charged him in a violent rush. The promise of imminent death sent another rush of adrenaline through Damon, producing a few seconds of brilliant clarity.

He finally succeeded in getting a focus. For an instant the familiar features of the man he had considered a trusted friend were clearly visible in the light from the living room. Klaus' face was twisted with a maddened rage. Damon realized that he had never known the real Klaus until tonight.

The shock of being so terribly, horribly wrong brought another dose of clarity. Damon knew he couldn't let Klaus get the gemstone. People would die if certain people get hold of the gemstone. Innocent people would die. He summoned up the full, raging force of his talent, by sending energy into his ring and got the response he was looking for. The azure gemstone burned with a searing radiance. He hurled the currents of paranormal radiation into Klaus's aura. Not exactly Zeus with the lightning bolts but good enough to get the job done.

Klaus grunted once, clutched at his heart and instinctively reeled backward to escape the onslaught of energy. He fetched up hard against the balcony railing. He was a tall man. The barrier caught him at mid-thigh. The force of his momentum sent him over the edge.

He did not scream, because he was already dead.


	2. Chapter 2

"I will walk you back to your car, Miss Gilbert," Damon Salvatore said. Elena felt the hair stir on the nape of her neck.

Elena had just had dinner together with her best friend Caroline Forbes and her fiancé Stefan Salvatore at a restaurant in the trendy Chicago neighbourhood of the city. Stefan's brother, Damon had flown in from New York to meet his brother's fiancée. Talk about coincidence, she thought.

She tried to think of a reasonable excuse to turn down the offer of an escort. But Damon was already on his feet.

"It's a dark walk to the carpark," he said. "Chicago isn't as safe as you think, Elena. You won't mind if I call you Elena, right?"

Another little chill went through her. Damon had regarded her with a lot of interest the moment she walked through the front door of the restaurant. It was at that point that she realized he had seen her as a potential lover. It was annoying yet unnerving.

At first glance some people might have been inclined to underestimate him. She would never in a million years make that mistake, she thought. This was a complicated man. Under certain circumstances he would no doubt be a very dangerous man.

Damon was extremely handsome with a height of 5'10' and a well-toned body. With striking, intense blue eyes contrasting wonderfully against dark lashes and eyebrows, and a "bad boy" smile, Caroline had described him as the "eternal stud".

Damon had continued to watch her with an expression of rapt attention throughout dinner. It occurred to her that, in her own, hopefully subtler, way she was doing pretty much the same thing; watching Damon Salvatore closely. She was torn between fascination and profound wariness. The energy stirring in the room disturbed her in new and unsettling ways. She probably should be a lot more worried, she thought. Instead she was intrigued.

Elena was a talent. She had inherited the ability to read people's mind and thoughts from her birth mother's Isobel Fleming who also had paranormal ability. She only discovered that she was being adopted by Grayson and Miranda Gilbert after their car drove off the Wickery Bridge in Mystic Falls when Elena was seventeen. Elena was the only survival of the car crash. It was after that accident when she came into her talent.

But Elena made the mistake of confiding in a counsellor. Everyone concluded that she was seriously disturbed. The next thing she knew, she landed in the Mystic Falls Academy. She was miserable at the time, but looking back, it was the best thing that could have happened to her. She was very lonely at first and she was scared, but she soon met Caroline and another talent, Bonnie Bennett, there. The three girls bonded. They stuck together until they graduated, and they were still very close. They were like family. The other good thing about Mystic Falls Academy was that she met Jo Parker there. She was the one who helped her deal with her talent.

Most of the time she used her talent for counselling work. Her abilities did have a few practical applications—although the ability to read someone's mind had managed to make it pay very well as a counsellor—there was one really huge downside.

Relationships.

Sex wasn't the problem. But over the course of the past year or two she had begun to lose interest in it. Perhaps that was because she had finally accepted that she would never have a relationship that lasted longer than a few months. Somehow, that realization had removed what little pleasure was left in short-term affairs. In the wake of the fiasco with Liam Davis a few months ago she had settled into celibacy with a sense of enormous relief.

No man would like a woman who could read his mind all the time.

Except Damon Salvatore.

She couldn't read his mind.

No question about it, Damon was a powerful talent.

"Trust me, Mr Salvatore" she said. "I can protect myself."

"Call me Damon," he said. "I don't like the idea of a woman walking alone at night in the street of Chicago. My hotel is around the corner anyway."

She pulled up the collar of her trench coat but it was hard to ignore the shivery little thrills of awareness that were lifting the hair on the nape of her neck. She had dated her share of men. Some would say more than her share. It wasn't her looks or body that drew them. She strongly suspected that she qualified as merely okay in both departments. There was a certain type, however, who was attracted to her because of her profession. That kind found it intriguing to date a counsellor; always wanted to know if she had the ability of mind reading and they would look at her funny when she said yes.

Others responded unconsciously to her aura. She possessed a very high level of talent, and psi power could be seductive, especially to a man who was endowed with some degree of sensitivity of his own, even if he wasn't consciously aware of his own psychic nature.

And then there were always those like Liam Davis who were initially ecstatic about the prospect of dating a woman who made no demands when it came to long-term commitment. To them she was a fantasy come true. At least for a while.

Although she liked men and she had had some experience with the species, she could not recall the last time any man had aroused this fizzy sensation of sensual awareness and anticipation in her.

It was as if something inside her recognized Damon Salvatore in ways she could not explain. Maybe she was simply responding to his own very high level of talent, she thought. Or perhaps it was the darkly fascinating background of him that she had heard from Caroline. Whatever the case, she was fairly certain she had caught a flash of sexual heat in his eyes when she had come through the door. She was absolutely positive about the physical attraction between them.

There is a certain kind of freedom in celibacy, she reminded herself.

"Is there someone waiting at home for you?" Damon asked.

She didn't immediately acknowledge the question. Not until they had halted at a crosswalk did she turn her head. He locked gazes with a pair of brown eyes that turned out to be her best feature of all – and they were all damn near spectacular.

"Why?"

"Because I would like to invite you to join me for a drink. Any reason I shouldn't?"

She shook her head, then returned her eyes to the road in front.

"Okay, then, would you care to join me for a drink?"

"I don't need a drink."

"But I think you need a drink."

"I don't believe this."

"It's only a drink. It's not even ten o'clock." He checked his wristwatch to confirm the time.

"I refuse to let you push me around like this."

"I haven't touched you," Damon said.

She would not lower herself to his level, she thought. She was a mature, sophisticated woman. She would not engage in public scenes.

The only option to yelling at Damon was to pretend he was not right here. It was not easy.

She carried on walking and Damon followed closely. Outside on the sidewalk the weird afterglow of the rainy twilight combined with the streetlamps to infuse the city with a surreal atmosphere. It was as if he and Elena were moving through a dream sequence, Damon thought. It was easy to believe that they were the only real, solid beings in a world composed of eerie lights and shadows.

In the strange, vapour-like mist, Elena's flowing, trench coat glittered like a cape woven of otherworldly gemstones. He wanted to reach out and pull her close against his side; feel the heat of her body; inhale her scent.

It was getting worse, he thought. This gut-deep awareness had hit him hard when he had first experienced it the moment she walked into the restaurant. He had told himself it would fade quickly. Just a passing sexual attraction.

But he was wrong. He wanted her.

"Why don't we get some tacos?" he asked.

He could tell his suggestion caught her off guard. "Tacos?"

The picture of innocence, Damon said, "I haven't had tacos for a long time."

"We just finished dinner."

"Tacos are not food. They are junk food."

"Are you serious?"

He smiled and reached out to take her arm. "Come on, I will buy."

He steered her toward the fast-food chain restaurant in the middle of the block. Although it was past the normal dinner hour, it was doing a brisk business.

A woman in uniform taking orders greeted them. "Hi, folks. What are you all having tonight?"

He looked at her. "What would you like, Elena?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Then I will make the call." He turned to look at the woman at the counter. "We will have a cheeseburger taco, a chicken fajita taco salad, cheese nachos, and tortilla chips and salsa bar. Take away please."

The woman smiled politely. "Sure. It won't be too long."

Elena's eyes widened. "How are you going to finish all these?"

He winked at her. "I'm a junk-food junkie."

She rolled her eyes. "This is unhealthy eating."

"Relax, Elena. You need to indulge yourself once in a while."

By the time Damon unlocked the door to his suite at the hotel and motioned her to go in ahead of him, her mouth had started to water. "You are a bad influence, Damon Salvatore." Making herself right at home, she stepped out of her heels, then went around the suite's sitting room switching on table lamps. "It's unhealthy but it smells delicious."

They decided to picnic on the coffee table. While she unwrapped the food and divided it, he poured each of them a drink at the bar. "Bourbon?"

"And ice, please."

He came to the table with a drink in each hand. He passed one of the drinks down to her, then lowered himself to the floor across the low table from her. He raised his glass. "To fat and high cholesterol."

She clinked her glass with his and sipped. "Hmm. Add to that good sipping whiskey."

They dug in and were soon laughing over the ravenous way they were consuming the food. The crunchy taco shells apart, so they were reduced to scooping up cheese, lettuce, and spicy meat with their fingers.

"You would think I hadn't eaten in a month," he remarked. "But this is damn good."

"Tacos are easy to come by."

"There are a lot of places that sell tacos in New York…you know…"

She had been involved in what he was saying, so until his voice dwindled to nothing she wasn't even aware that she had been sucking hard on the side of her index finger and licking it with her tongue. That's where his focus was. It was he was concentrating on, not the tacos he had eaten in New York.

Flushed and self-conscious, she lowered her hand to her lap. "Paper cut," she said gruffly. "From the sack. I think…salt…or something got…"

Then she stopped talking, too, because he wasn't listening. He was watching her lips move, but he wasn't playing attention to the words, and frankly neither was she. She was watching him watching her mouth, and it made her tummy feel weightless despite the amount of food she had gobbled.

Finally his eyes reconnected with hers. "What were we talking about?"

She cleared her throat. "Tacos in New York."

"Yeah. Right." He finished the last bite of the tacos and leaned back against the sofa, one knee raised and one hand draped over it holding his highball glass.

She was looking at his hand, at the casual way his strong fingers held the glass by the rim. Great hands. Then she noticed his ring. "Your ring."

"What about it?"

"It's infused with a little energy. It's a paranormal gemstone like the one your brother, Stefan, wears, isn't it?"

Damon glanced at his ring. The azure gemstone was faintly luminous. The stone was responding to his slightly jacked senses,

"Yes, it's hot," he said. "My father gave it to me when I was in my late teens. Stefan got one as well. They are each unique."

He tossed the bourbon down. He took another look at the ring. The gemstone had been infused with energy the moment he laid eyes on Elena when she walked into the restaurant. It was hot again now. Being physically near her was a real ride.

Over the years, he had learned that the gemstone resonated with the energy of his talent. When he was really in the zone, the stone glowed. The ultra-light it gave off, however, was from the paranormal end of the spectrum. Only someone who was sensitive to psi could perceive the heat in the gemstone.

He had noticed energy stirring on several occasions in the gemstone. But until he had met Elena, it had never heated with this unique colour. It was like the distinct blue tint of glass, he thought.

They drank more bourbon in silence.

"You are a talent," he said. "Just like Caroline."

"Yes. I'm a psychic counsellor. I do aura readings in a shop in the market."

"Aura readings. Right."

She gave him a severe look. "I know what you are thinking."

"Do you?"

"You think I'm using my talent to con people. For the record, I don't do fortune-telling or palm-reading. And I certainly don't pretend to talk to the dead. I really can read auras. My clients come to me for advice and guidance. I analyse their energy fields and tells them what I see and make recommendations."

"Got it."

Elena sighed. "Sorry. I'm probably overreacting here." She gathered up the last of the paper wrappers and napkins and stuffed into the empty sack. "It's just that so many people think psychic counsellor is a fraud. Storefront psychics aren't exactly held in high esteem by psychologists and traditional counsellors."

"I believe you."

She smiled. "Thank you."

"I apologise. I shouldn't have sounded judgemental about your talent."

"I'm aware of what the general public thinks about psychic counsellors. Most people assume that we are entertainers at best and scam artists at worst."

"I know that your talent is genuine, Elena. I'm sorry."

She smiled again. "I forgive you."

"Good. Because I would forgive you just about anything when you look at me like that."

She lowered her voice to match the intimate pitch of his. "How am I looking at you?"

"The same way you were looking at me during dinner."

"I was being polite."

"You were being pointedly suggestive."

"I wasn't looking at you in any special way."

"Oh, yes, you were."

"Now that I'm conceding the argument, Damon, but how did you imagine that I was looking at you?"

"You tried to read my thoughts."

She reddened.

"You wanted to know what I was thinking. About you." His eyes held hers, and together they sank into a long and evocative stare, which wasn't interrupted until Elena looked away.

Elena seemed to shake off her daze. She cleared her throat. "Your look doesn't make me feel like a lady."

"Oh, so it's my look now."

"Turnabout is only fair."

"Okay. How am I looking at you? How does my look make you feel?"

"Like it is a hot evening in the summertime and I'm an ice-cream cone."

Several seconds laden with sexual undercurrents ticked by before he leaned forward to set his glass on the coffee table. "Elena?"

"Hmm?"

"Are we going to sleep together?"

A dart of excitement found its target and caused her to catch her breath. "What?"

"I'm asking – are we going to sleep together?"

"I don't do one-night stand," she managed weakly.

"Neither do I."

Her eyes burned with a little heat. "That's good to know."

"Is there any man who might feel he has a claim on you?"

"No. Not tonight."

"That's all right, then."

She swallowed hard. She had known this was going to happen when she followed him into his suit, she thought. And she was pretty sure he had known it, too.

Hesitating only a heartbeat, she answered, "No." Then she slowly stood up and stepped around the table to stand directly in front of him. "Ask anybody about Elena Gilbert, and they will tell you that she only does whatever seems right."

He remained seated on the floor, but his eyes had followed her up, taking their time to track the terrain of her figure. Huskily, Damon asked, "What seems right?"

He was hoping that she shared his idea of the right thing for them to do at this particular moment.

Somehow managing to look both seductive and ladylike, Elena had reached behind her neck and unfastened the hook at the top of her zipper, then gradually pulled it down. She lowered one shoulder of her dress, then the other, before letting it drop to her waist, sliding down over her hips, and stepping out of it.

"Damn," he whispered hoarsely.

"Should I take that as a yea vote?"

His answer was to place his hands at her waist and pull her toward him. He kissed her just above her bikini line, gentle sucking her skin against his teeth and tongue. As she gradually lowered herself to her knees, his mouth worked its way up her body. When her black strapless bra impeded his progress, he reached behind her and unhooked it, and then her nipple was inside his mouth, and her hands were in his hair.

When his mouth covered hers there was inevitability about the kiss that thrilled her senses. Nevertheless, the fierce urgency that slammed through her took her breath. She wanted Damon. She needed him tonight. She yearned to abandon herself to the sheer physical sensation of being held close and tight and hard by this man.

The vibrant force of her own desire caught her off guard. She could feel Damon's hunger, as well. The combination was electrifying.

No one had ever affected her senses like this. Or maybe she had never allowed anyone to have this effect on her.

She heard herself give a soft, hoarse cry. The small sound was muffled by Damon's mouth. He groaned, flattened one hand on the base of her spine and forced her hips against his own.

Her memory was cloudy as how they got to the sofa. She just remembered wallowing entwined among the cushions. Damon's hands were trying to touch as much of her as possible in the shortest amount of time, and catching her breast between his lips each time they got near his mouth.

"One of us has on too many clothes," she whispered against his throat while her hands reached for the buttons on his shirt.

She pushed him back onto the cushions and knelt on the floor between his knees. Painstakingly she removed the buttons. She chastised him and laughingly pushed his hands aside whenever impatience drove him to try and assist.

Finally all the buttons were removed. She spread open his shirt and leaned forward to kiss his chest. The touch of her lips was as light as her breath on his skin. Occasionally he felt the damp brush of her tongue and the delicate scrape of her teeth as she worked her way down to his navel.

He held his breath when she unzipped his trousers. She slipped her hand inside. He was heavily aroused. It gave her a glorious satisfaction to know that she was the cause.

"Talk about larger than life," she whispered. She squeezed gently.

He inhaled sharply. "Don't think I can take much foreplay tonight."

"Tell me when to stop." She stroked him more firmly.

He gave a low, sexy growl of a laugh. "Don't hold your breath."

He pulled her head down with one hand and crushed her mouth on his while his free hand moved down her body to her thigh. Her underwear came off. His fingertips slid between the cleft of her buttocks and then moved around the curve of her hips. He found the tight, urgent place between her legs and probed slowly. A delicious ache flowered inside her.

"Damon," she whispered against his mouth.

"Are you going to have second thoughts in the morning?" he asked softly. "Because if so, I would really appreciate it if you would tell me now."

"No second thoughts," she said. She kissed his chest. "Not about tonight."

"Good." He pulled her away from him gently. "Neither do I."

He sat up, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Damon released her long enough to get out of his shirt, trousers, and briefs. He opened a drawer in the nightstand and took out a small packet. He had the condom on with a couple of quick, efficient moves. Then he was on the bed, gathering her in his arms.

Damon loomed over her, caging her between his arms. He kissed her again, on her mouth, her throat, her breasts. He moved down the length of her body, raised her knees and found the tight, hard button between her legs with his tongue.

Alarm shot through her.

"Wait." She levered herself up on both elbows. "That's not my thing. I have never let anyone—" She broke off, floundering, feeling suddenly frantic.

He raised his head briefly. "Why not?"

She could not believe he was asking questions. "This is hardly the time for an extended discussion of the subject."

"Can't think of a better time, can you?"

"All right," she snapped, exasperated. "It's too personal. Too intimate. There. Satisfied?"

"No. Ever tried it?"

"No."

"Then you are not speaking from experience. You don't know what you're missing."

He lowered his mouth to her again.

She clawed at the bedding with both hands, instinctively trying to retreat from the sheer intensity of the sensation. She found herself trapped when she came up hard against the head of the bed. Damon gripped her buttocks, sinking his fingers into her in order to hold her still.

"You taste so good I could eat you alive." He kissed the inside of her thigh. "Trust me, here."

And suddenly there was nothing she wanted to do more in the entire world.

"Damon."

She heard a low, sexy laugh.

"There's an old saying that suits this situation," Damon said, tightening his grip on her. "Something along the lines of 'Lie back and enjoy it.'"

"Why, you macho, arrogant son of a—"

Outraged, she fisted her hands in his hair, intending to push him away. Somehow she accidentally pulled him closer.

"Open up all of your senses," he whispered. "Run hot for me."

That was one risk she did not want to take tonight, she thought. She could not bear to discover that he was not as enthralled as she was by the passion that had flared between them.

He eased his thumbs into her, pressing upward, finding the perfect spot just inside. At the same time, his tongue stroked the sensitive bud.

She was suddenly clenched so tightly she had nothing left for the battle. She did the only thing she could do under the circumstances. She surrendered.

The climax rolled through her, sweeping away the last of her control. All her senses flashed into full awareness. Power danced in the shadows around her; hers and Damon's. She realized dimly that he was running wide open, too.

Her heels dug into the mattress. She heard a high, exultant shriek. She was screaming. She never screamed in bed. Then again, she had never had such a passion with a man, either.

Damon moved swiftly up her body and sank deep inside her with a long, heavy thrust.

But she was impossibly sensitive now and he was much bigger than any of the handful of men she had gone to bed with in the past. The result was an overwhelming storm of sensation.

A second series of small shock waves reverberated through her. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his hips.

"Yes," Damon muttered against her mouth. "Just like that. Tight and hot."

The muscles of his back went rigid beneath her palms. His skin was damp from perspiration. He drove himself into her again and again, hard and fast.

Seconds later his release slammed through him. She felt every wave.

When it was finally over he collapsed on top of her, pinning her to the bed with the weight of his utterly relaxed body.

"Knew it was going to be like that," he said into the pillow beside her.

He was telling the truth.

Damon finally gave up trying to ignore the pushing and prodding.

"I hate to disturb you."

He opened his eyes reluctantly. He had fallen asleep with his head tucked beneath her biceps, his cheek on her breast.

"I've got to go," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair once before trying to life his head.

He mumbled a sleepy protest and burrowed his head closer against her side.

She laughed softly. "Damon, I've got to go."

Coming more fully awake, he raised his head. "How come?"

"It's late."

"Or early. It all depends on how you look at it." He was looking at her breasts, lying soft and relaxed against her chest. He blew gently on her nipple and it responded. She sighed his name, and, with no more encouragement than that, he stretched out along her incredibly beautiful body so that they were touching collarbone to toes. "I don't want you to go. Stay."

"You wouldn't rather be well rid of me coming morning?"

He rocked forward slightly, so she would feel him getting hard between their bodies. Lowering his head, he whispered, "Stay," as his lips moved against her raised nipple. His tongue caressed it.

She made a low, sexy sound deep in her throat. "You are not playing fair, Damon."

"I'm cheating like hell." Reflexively her body arched up to increase the pressure on his erection, and he growled softly. "But so are you."

"Because I want you to win."

He kissed her throat while he rummaged with one hand in the drawer of the nightstand. He knew the box of condoms was in there somewhere. He took a few and tossed the packets onto the nightstand, where they would be conveniently at hand.

After he had sheathed himself, he slid his palms up the undersides of her arms until they were stretched far above her head. Her thighs relaxed beneath his and separated. Clasping her hands, he entered her.

"Hmm. I don't guess I will be going anytime soon."

He pressed forward. "Will you be coming?"

She rolled her hips up to receive his slow thrusts. "No question. I will definitely be coming."

He thrust deeply into her, losing himself in a world of intense sensation. He heard her soft, exultant cry and felt her body grip him with fierce satisfaction. Her head tipped back. Her lips parted in a soundless scream.

She climaxed immediately. A moment later he went rigid, back arched, and then his own climax slammed through him, pounding into her. He gave an exultant, half-choked shout.

They hung there together as if suspended over a vast darkness.

And then Damon collapsed, sprawling heavily on top of her. The last thing Elena remembered was he pulled the blanket over her body, tugged her close and spooned her, his hand sliding possessively over her waist and resting on her breast.

As if he cherished her.

And she thought that maybe, just maybe, Damon was going to ruin after-sex cuddling for her, too. Because being pressed up against his big, strong body as she drifted off to sleep, his hand possessively cupping her breast, felt a little too good to be true.


	3. Chapter 3

The body was crumpled on the floor beside the coffee table.

Jo Parker's eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling. Her reading glasses lay on the floor. There was no blood or obvious bruising on the body.

Elena knew Jo was dead but she made herself check for a pulse. There was no pulse. There was only the terrible chill and the utter stillness of death. But she had read that the first responder was supposed to apply chest compressions until the medics arrived. She positioned her hands over her heart.

"Come on, Jo. Don't give up," she said as she compressed Jo's chest. "Don't give up. You can't give up."

But her efforts were useless. She had known they would be, but she'd had to try.

Finally, weakened by her own exertion, she gave up. She reached for the phone in her bag and dialled 911. The operator answered.

The 911 operator was asking for information.

"What is the nature of your emergency?" the woman asked.

"I just found the body of an old friend," Elena said. "Dr Jo Parker."

She rattled off the stark facts and verified the address.

"I've got cars on the way," the operator said. "Your name, ma'am?"

"Elena Gilbert."

"Please stay at the scene, ma'am."

"I'm not going anywhere."

I will find it. Bitch.

Someone was inside the building. She froze and peered uneasily up into the darkness at the foot of the stairs.

You can't stop me. I will find it.

Elena could hear the voice in her head. She was certain there was another person inside the building. She was a talent. She could read people's thoughts when they were in close proximity.

Jo Parker owned this three-storey building from his parents where she had used it as her office for her research as well as for living.

Jo didn't have any relatives in Mystic Falls. Who would be inside the building?

There could be many possibilities. But one of them was that Jo had, indeed, been murdered and the killer was still on the scene.

She listened intently, hoping to hear sirens, but the wind was picking up now, cloaking sounds in the distance.

I will find it.

This time she was almost certain she heard a footstep. Someone was inside the basement. Her intuition was screaming at her now.

Instinctively she turned off the phone so that it would not give away her location if the operator called back. She scrambled to her feet.

She looked down at Jo one last time and knew in her heart that there was nothing more she could do for her.

"I'm sorry, Jo," she whispered.

Her car was parked in the wide, circular driveway in front. She slung the strap of her heavy tote over one shoulder and sprinted toward the front door.

Then she heard the footsteps on the stairs.

She sucked in a deep breath. "Oh, damn."

Elena retrieved her keys from her shoulder bag and dropped the tote on the floor. She could hear the muffled thud of running footsteps on the stairs now. Evidently the killer had heard her voice.

She went down a narrow hall. She had visited this building multiple times. She knew every inch of the place. Jo had used the basement as her library and office. There were two large bedrooms on the third floor. The living room was on the first floor. There was a large kitchen, storage rooms, and the laundry on the second floor.

She was on the first floor. If she went down the stairs now, she could bump into the killer. She summoned up a mental diagram of the layout of the building grounds. It was clear that there was no way to get to her car without being seen by whoever was in the basement.

She emerged from the dark hallway into the pantry. The silence that followed iced her nerves.

She heard more footsteps—long, deliberate strides. Someone was searching the first floor, looking for her. It would be only a matter of time before she was discovered. If the person stalking her was armed, she would not stand a chance of making it to her car.

She tried to think through a workable strategy. On the positive side, help was on the way. She needed the equivalent of a safe room until the authorities arrived.

She looked around and realized that there was a service stairs that led the first floor to the upper floors.

She rushed across the pantry, not even trying to conceal her movements. Her shoes rang on the old tile floor. She knew her pursuer must have heard her.

Muffled footsteps suddenly pounded across the hallway, heading for the pantry.

Elena opened the door of the service staircase and raced up to the next floor.

She reached the second floor, and went down the hall. The storage rooms were closed. She chose one at the far end of the corridor, opened it, and rushed inside.

Whirling, she slammed the door shut and slid the bolt home. A determined man could kick the door down, but it would take some work.

She could hear the intruder coming up the service stairs. But her pursuer would have to check the rooms one by one to find her.

Heart pounding, her breath tight in her chest, she looked down and was vaguely surprised to see that she was still clutching her phone. She stared at it, oddly numb. Very carefully she switched it on and tapped in the emergency number again.

"Don't hang up again," the operator said earnestly. "The ambulance and police should be there any minute. Are you all right?"

"No," Elena said.

She went to the nearest piece of stout furniture, a heavy armchair, and started to drag it across the room.

"Are you in danger?" the operator demanded.

"Yes," Elena said. "I'm upstairs in one of the storage rooms. Someone is inside the building. He will be here any second. I have locked the door but I don't know how long that will stop him."

"Push something in front of the door."

"Great idea," Elena gasped. She shoved harder on the heavy chair. "Why didn't I think of it?"

The big chair seemed to weigh a ton, but it was moving now. She managed to manoeuvre it in front of the door.

She heard the footsteps stop outside her room. She grabbed her phone and headed toward the windows.

The storm struck just as she opened one of the windows. Wind-driven rain lashed at her. But she could hear the sirens in the distance.

She knew the intruder had heard them too because the footsteps were retreating down the hall, heading toward the stairs at a run. She knew the killer was headed for the safety of the woods that bordered the rear of the property. She remembered the road that wound through the trees.

A short time later she heard a car engine roar to life. The intruder was gone.

She rushed to meet the emergency vehicles pulling into the drive.

"Elena."

Liz Forbes got out of the petrol car. She was in her mid-fifties. With her short, blonde hair, intelligent eyes and slightly rumpled navy blue uniform, she looked like the sheriff that she was.

"Sheriff," Elena said politely.

"Cindy said the 911 call came in from Elena Gilbert," Liz said. "I thought you were in Chicago."

"I just arrived this evening. Jo was a friend of mine," Elena said. She was careful to keep her own voice cool, calm and as innocent-sounding as possible. "We stayed in touch."

A young officer and two medics arrived behind Oxley. The medics carried emergency equipment and a stretcher.

Liz looked at the building. "Where is she?"

"On the first floor," Elena answered. "Near the coffee table."

The young officer and the medics tromped past her and disappeared into the building.

"You said there was someone inside the building," Liz said. "Did you manage to catch a glimpse of that person?"

Elena shook her head. "No. But he went to the rear of the building. There's a road that wound through the trees."

"He? Are you sure it was a man?"

"No."

"So it could be a woman?"

"It is possible."

"Why did you come back to Mystic Falls, Elena?" Liz narrowed suspicious green eyes. "What brought you back to Mystic Falls?"

"Jo sent me an email yesterday asking me to come back here as soon as possible."

"Why?"

"She said something about Isobel," Elena paused. "My birth mother."

x x x

"What makes Elena think that Jo Parker was murdered by paranormal means?" Damon asked.

He was on the porch of the small cottage, tilted back in a wooden chair that was propped on its two rear legs. The heels of his running shoes were stacked on the railing. He held the phone tightly to his ear so that he could hear his brother over the dull roar of the breakers crashing on the long strip of beach.

Sun, sea and sand, the typical promise of the islands of the Caribbean and Damon was looking forward to it. He needed a distraction. Lately the days seemed endless and the nights were even longer.

It was Elena's fault.

 _Screw her_ , he had thought as he grouchily rolled out of bed that morning. He had things to do, places to go, people to see. They had had some laugh, some good sex. He was sore that she hadn't stayed through the night, but he would survive.

But after all that male posturing, he had wound up calling Stefan before breakfast asking for Elena's number and was irked when he got her voice mail. He had left a message. No. Not one but three messages. She never returned his call.

"Elena is a talent," Stefan said patiently. "Like us, remember?"

Oh, yeah, I remember you, Elena Gilbert, Damon thought. He wasn't likely to forget her.

"Elena read people's mind, doesn't she?" he said into the phone. "Dead bodies don't have thinking, so I don't understand how she could pick up much at a crime scene."

"There was another person on the scene. Caroline says that Elena's talent is a lot more complex than she lets on. She can read someone's mind in close proximity," Stefan said. "Don't forget those two have known each other since they were locked up in high school together."

"Locked up?"

"After their psychic talents started to manifest, Caroline and Elena both wound up in a boarding school for troubled youth, the Mystic Falls Academy," Sam explained. "In Caroline's case, her family figured she was psychologically disturbed. Elena ended up there after both her parents died. It's a long story and not a happy one. Caroline says there were bars on the windows."

Damon exhaled slowly. "That had to be rough."

"Knowing Caroline and Elena has brought home to me the fact that you and I don't always appreciate just how damn lucky we were to grow up with parents who managed to deal with the paranormal side of our natures."

Meeting Caroline Forbes had changed a lot of things for his brother, Damon thought. Stefan had fallen for Caroline like the proverbial ton of bricks after Caroline had hired him to investigate a case that had involved murder, revenge and a rare ancient gold pendant with psychic energy. It was believed that the gold pendant could channel energy to control people. In the end the gold pendant was destroyed.

The couple had announced their intention to marry immediately. Both Giuseppe and Lilian Salvatore were happy for the couple. So was Damon.

"Look, I understand that you want to take a break before we decide what we are going to do with Salvatore Consulting," Stefan said. "But this is a family situation. Caroline says that Elena is really upset about Jo's death. Elena wants an investigation, and she is not going to get that from the local cops. All we are asking you to do is make a quick trip to Mystic Falls and figure out what happened to Jo."

"What if it turns out that Jo Parker was murdered by paranormal means? What the hell will Elena expect me to do about it? It's not like this is one of our old agency jobs where I can go in, analyse the scene and turn the problem over to our agency so that someone can make the problem go away. Regular cops and prosecutors don't think much of the woo-woo stuff. They need hard proof to build a case, and that's not always available."

"I'm aware of that," Stefan said.

"It's why we don't do much private work, remember?" Damon said. "Aside from the security work we do for Salvatore, Inc, we are lucky someone is interested in the services of a consulting firm that specializes in paranormal investigations. Our one and only client."

"I know, but this falls into the friends-and-family category," Stefan said.

"I get that, but that still begs the question. What will Elena Gilbert expect me to do if I determine that her friend was murdered but can't find any usable evidence?"

"You will think of something," Stefan said. "You always do. This is very important to Caroline. She says it is important to Elena too."

"Any why is that?"

Stefan cleared his throat. "Jo sent Elena an email before she died."

"What was the email about?"

"It was about Elena's birth mother."

"This thing is starting to sound more complicated by the minute."

"Elena is adopted by Grayson and Miranda Gilbert. Isobel Fleming is her birth mother who is also a talent like us."

"Damn, this is complicated," Damon said. "Where is Isobel?"

"Nobody know where Isobel is. Elena only found out that she was adopted after Grayson and Miranda died in a car accident."

"Okay. You were saying Jo sent an email to Elena and it was about Isobel."

"That's the reason Elena went back to Mystic Falls."

"But Jo Parker was already dead."

"Caroline says Elena has been trying to search for Isobel for many years. She thought Jo had eventually managed to locate Isobel. Now Jo's death had really upset her."

Damon contemplated the restless, grey ocean. "What did the local cops say about Jo's death?"

"I'm told that the sheriff of Mystic Falls Liz Forbes had her suspicions but she couldn't prove anything."

"Liz Forbes?"

There was a brief silence.

"Caroline's mum."

"I get it now." Damon whistled softly. "Caroline's mum doesn't believe in Caroline's talent. She will never believe what Elena said about reading another person's mind in the building."

"Correct."

Damon wrapped one hand around a wooden post and watched the ocean. "Okay, got to admit this is an interesting case."

"You are going to accept this job?"

"How's Elena?" Damon asked. "Was she okay?"

"Elena is fine, but for her own peace of mind, she needs to find out what is going on. She knows Caroline so she knows that you and I are in the psychic investigation business."

"But our agency is starting to lose faith in us. In me," Damon paused briefly before continuing, "I destroy our business."

"It's not your fault, Damon," Stefan said. "We can find another replacement if things fall apart. At last official count, there were close to a thousand different government agencies, departments and offices involved in the U.S. intelligence community—and a couple thousand more private contractors. I'm sure we can find one that is interested in the services of a consulting firm that specializes in paranormal investigations. But for now, we need to do something about Elena's case."

The wind sharpened. So did Damon's senses. This time it would be different, he thought. This time Elena needed him.

"All right, I will go to Mystic Falls and take a look," he said.

There was a short pause on the other end of the call.

"There is something going on between you and Elena," Stefan said finally.

Damon yanked his head back reflexively. "Excuse me?"

"You didn't just walk her to her car that night, did you?"

Damon couldn't doge the pointed question. His brother knew him too well.

"We had tacos in my hotel."

"Tacos?"

"Yes," Damon replied evenly. "We walked past a place that sells tacos. We ate off the coffee table in my suite."

"Okay. Tacos. What else?"

"I had one drink. There was liquor in the bar. Bourbon, in case you want to know that, too."

"And Elena?"

"One also."

"How long did she stay in your suite?"

"I don't remember what time it was when she left."

"Okay. So you ate. You had one bourbon. What else did you do?"

"Talked."

"Talked?"

"Yes, we talked."

"Really?"

"Why don't you just come right out and ask what you are itching to ask, Stefan?"

"Okay. Did you sleep together?"

"None of your business, Stefan."

Damon ended the connection and went inside the cottage to pack his luggage. Anticipation crackled through him. He would be seeing Elena again soon.

x x x

"You slept with Damon Salvatore?" Bonnie Bennett leaned forward across the restaurant table and lowered her voice. "Are you out of your mind, Elena?"

"A moment of sheer insanity. We were alone and things got tense…"

"I will bet!"

"…and it just sort of…happened."

"Oh, that's original," Bonnie retorted.

"Relax. It's not going to happen again."

"That's supposed to reassure me?"

"Well, it certainly makes me feel better about the whole thing," Elena said.

"According to what I found online, Damon Salvatore was implicated in the murder of his best friend and fiancée a year ago. He might be very, very dangerous."

"You know he is going to be Caroline's brother-in-law, right?"

They were in a booth in the bar section of the Mystic Grill, one of the most popular bars and cafés in Mystic Falls. It was seven-thirty. The place was now filling up with the locals from Mystic Falls. The low rumble of conversation and the music playing over the sound system provided a layer of privacy.

Bonnie Bennett was the same age as Elena. Tall, tanned, dark-haired and hazel-eyed, Bonnie was a witch. She had inherited her abilities from her maternal grandmother. She had been travelling around the world exploring different magics since she left Mystic Falls Academy.

"This isn't a joke," Bonnie said.

"I know. Sorry. It's been a very long day. I'm busy with Jo's funeral." Elena swallowed some of her wine and lowered the glass. "If it helps, I have been informed that there is no way Damon Salvatore could have murdered his best friend and his fiancée."

"Who told you that?"

"Caroline."

"Who told Caroline?"

"Stefan. Evidently, nobody believes Damon did it."

"And what proof do they offer?" Bonnie demanded.

"They seem to feel that if Damon had murdered someone, he would have done a better job of it."

"I beg your pardon. What's that supposed to mean?"

"He would have made the victims disappear." Elena waved one hand in a now-you-see–it–now-you-don't motion. "And he would have taken care to make sure that there was nothing left behind that pointed back to him. That's what Caroline said."

"And you believed Caroline's theory?"

Elena looked at Bonnie over the top of her glass. "Having met Damon Salvatore, yes, I believe that theory."

"You do realize that there's a lot of money in the Salvatore family," Bonnie said ominously. "With money comes the kind of power it takes to make sure someone in the family does not go down for murder."

"Your cynical side is showing, Bonnie."

"It's my best side. Is this Damon Salvatore an investigator like his brother?"

"Uh, huh."

"Oh, that's just wonderful," Bonnie said. "You are serious about asking him to investigate Jo's death?"

"I do think he's the best man for the job."

"Why, for heaven's sake?"

"Because this situation involves a murder by paranormal means, and I need an investigator who at least takes the paranormal seriously. Not a lot of those floating around, in case you haven't noticed. Besides, you know as well as I do that Caroline would never have sent me to Damon if she had believed there was a better option."

"Point taken." Bonnie sat back. "Have you heard anything from the sheriff about Jo's case?"

Elena shook her head. "She probably doesn't believe there was another person inside the building."

"Did they find out the cause of Jo's death?"

"There were no signs of injury. It didn't look like an overdose or poisoning. They believe she had a cardiac arrest."

"But Jo was a healthy individual."

"That's what I told the sheriff. But obviously, she didn't take my words seriously."

"Because we are talents, remember?"

Elena chuckled. "Yeah, I remember."

"She thinks Caroline is psychologically disturbed. That's the words she used."

"I guess it is hard for a mother to accept the fact that her daughter is a psychic."

"There is nothing wrong being a psychic," Bonnie retorted.

"No, there is nothing wrong," Elena said. "But it is difficult for the parents to accept the fact that your child is somewhat abnormal."

There was a brief silence.

"What's he like?" Bonnie asked eventually.

"Who?"

"Damon Salvatore." Bonnie picked up her glass of wine. "There must be something about him that makes you attracted to him."

Elena reddened. "I'm not attracted to him."

"Elena, you are blushing!"

Her face flaming, Elena picked up her glass of wine again. "I'm not blushing."

"You like him."

"No, I don't," she lied. "We are practically strangers."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Strangers who slept together."

Elena glared at her. "It's not going to happen again."

"Can you guarantee it will not happen again?"

"I…" Elena found no words. How could she ever make sure she wouldn't jump into bed with Damon again? She wouldn't deny that she wanted Damon that night.

She cleared her throat. "It's strictly business on this occasion."

Bonnie narrowed her eyes. "Strictly business?"

"Yes, strictly business."

"He may not be on the same page as you, darling." Bonnie took a sip of her wine. "All women are potentially vulnerable to any man who want to use them. Even a psychic woman is no exception."

"I have a hunch that women use men just as much as men use women," Elena said calmly.

"Ah, but there is a distinct difference in that women, even women who are good at using men, seldom resort to violence, do they?"

"I don't believe Damon would ever harm a woman."

Bonnie exhaled deeply. "Maybe you are right. I bet you probably understand him a little bit more since you know what's going on in his head."

"I can't read his mind," Elena said slowly.

"What?" Bonnie exclaimed, stunned.

"I can't read his mind. I don't know what is he thinking."

"What do you mean? You can easily read the thoughts of everyone here within a few seconds. You never have any problem, not even if that person is a psychic."

Elena shrugged. "I'm not sure about that. Damon is a very powerful talent."

Bonnie looked thoughtful. "I'm really intrigued by this Damon Salvatore. Doesn't sound like a typical psychic."

 _Me too,_ Elena thought. "There's nothing typical about Damon Salvatore."

When they emerged from the Grill, a light misty rain veiled the Mystic Falls neighbourhood. The wet pavement glowed with the reflected light of the streetlamps.

Bonnie shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her trench coat. "I'm thinking that maybe I should cancel Mexico tomorrow. I don't like leaving you here alone to deal with Damon Salvatore and a murder case."

"You are not going to cancel. It has taken you a while to find out about the ancient magic from a tribe in Mexico. You have paid for everything already. That's a lot of money."

"Screw the money. I'm worried about you, Elena."

"I will be fine."

"Promise me that if you have problems that you can't handle anymore, you will call Caroline first, because she will be the closest. And right after you call her, you will call me. I will be on the next plane back to Mystic Falls."

"I promise," Elena said.

Caroline and Bonnie constituted her real family, Elena thought. The bond among the three of them had been forged in the fires of their years together in the Mystic Falls Academy. Nothing could sever it.

She was about to add more reassurance, but a flash of intense awareness stopped her cold in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Elena?" Bonnie stopped, too, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"He is here," Elena said quietly.

"Who?" Bonnie asked.

Elena watched a shadowy figure detach itself from a darkened doorway and walk forward into the light. The man wore a black leather jacket open over black shirt and dark trousers. The collar of the jacket was pulled up against the chill and the rain, shadowing his features.

He carried a black leather gym bag in one hand. With her senses on alert, she had no difficulty at all perceiving the faint heat in his eyes. A thrill of excitement fizzed through her veins.

Damon looked at her, eyes heating a little. "I have been waiting for you. You know the old saying."

"What old saying?" Elena asked.

"You can run, but you can't hide."

Elena looked at Bonnie. "Meet Damon Salvatore."


	4. Chapter 4

Elena turned the key and pushed the door open. "Come in," she said.

Damon moved through the doorway, quartering the house with a quick, sweeping glance as though assessing potential security risks. She was suddenly very conscious of the two of them being alone inside her house.

He dropped the duffel bag on the floor near the door and looked at her. "Is it okay if I take off my jacket?"

"Yes, of course," Elena stuttered. Why was she stuttering? Get a grip, she said to herself.

He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to her. When she took it from him, her fingers brushed against his, sending an intimate little thrill of awareness across his senses. He knew she felt the small flash because her brilliant eyes widened slightly in surprise. She gave him a startled look and then just as swiftly looked away.

She hung his jacket on the coat tree and led the way down the short hall to the living and dining area.

A few minutes ago, Bonnie Bennett had discreetly vanished in her car to her grandmother's house a couple of blocks away. Damon had felt the energy shiver in the atmosphere when Elena had introduced him to her friend. He was fairly certain that Bonnie had used some talent to make a judgment call. She had evidently decided that Elena was safe with him, at least for now, because she had not tried to hang around.

"Your friend is also a talent, isn't she?" he asked.

There was a short pause.

"Bonnie is a witch." Elena said finally.

His expression went deadpan. "You are kidding."

"No, I'm not," she replied. "Bonnie is a very talented witch."

He smirked. "You mean she can cast a spell and make an object disappear?"

"It's not funny," she said.

Her voice had gone flat and cold. He felt like he had just stomped on a butterfly.

"I apologize," he said. "I shouldn't have said things like that about your friend. I'm sorry."

She relaxed. "Apology accepted. Would you like some tea? I don't keep alcohol at home normally."

"Tea will be fine. Thanks."

"I will get the water started." She hesitated, as if she wasn't quite sure what to do with him. "Please, sit down."

He studied his options. The house was warm and cosy. The walls were a sunny Mediterranean gold with dark brown accents. The floors were hardwood. There were two area rugs decorated with modernistic designs in deep red, teal, green and yellow.

There was a comfortable-looking sofa, some bookshelves, a lot of healthy-looking plants and a glass-topped coffee table. There was a photograph in an ornate antique frame on the side table. He picked up the photo and looked at it. The photo showed a smiling man holding hands with an elegant-looking woman who had to be his wife. Behind the beaming couple stood Elena and a young man about her age.

"This is your family?" Damon asked, holding up the frame to show the photo as he came to stand in the doorway to the kitchen.

"That's my parents," Elena said. She turned away and became very busy with the teakettle. "And my younger brother Jeremy."

"Where is Jeremy?"

"He is working in Texas." She set the kettle on a burner. "He is working for an oil company."

"Nice," he said. "And you have a nice house, Elena."

Elena smiled, it was the smile he had been missing lately. She was suddenly radiant. Deep satisfaction and delight lit her eyes. "I grew up in this house. This house is full of the wonderful memories of my childhood and my parents."

"You miss them?" he asked as he walked to the kitchen table and angled himself onto one of the chairs.

Elena took a canister down out of the cupboard. "Yes, I do."

He put the photo on the table. "They must be great parents."

"They were." She removed the lid of the canister and started spooning loose tea into a pot. "I guess Stefan had talked to you about Jo's death."

"Hmm, hmm."

"Thank you for accepting this case in such a short notice. I couldn't think of anyone else who can help me with this case."

"No problem."

"I realize that you consider this case very low-rent compared to the jobs you are accustomed to handling for some no-name government intelligence agency. But Caroline assured me that due to some unfortunate circumstances on your last mission, you are currently without a case and that you would give this investigation your full attention."

Damon's smile was slow and dangerous. "Rest assured you have my full attention, Elena Gilbert."

She licked her lips nervously. "How long do you think it will take you to conduct the investigation?"

"Depends how far you want me to go with it." Damon kept his own voice at a normal, conversational level.

She frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It will take me about five seconds at the scene to determine whether or not your friend was murdered."

She looked at him. "Really? Your brother made it clear that you are a professional investigator and that you have a talent for this sort of thing, but five seconds at the scene of the crime doesn't sound like enough time to conduct a thorough investigation."

Damon swept her misgivings aside with a slight motion of one powerful hand. "Murder is murder. It leaves a calling card, even when it's done by paranormal means. You knew someone was inside the building when you found Jo. You have your suspicions, haven't you?"

"Yes," she paused to take a breath. "There was someone in the basement when I found Jo. I heard someone climbing up the stairs. I was afraid that whoever it was intended to intercept me if I tried to get to my car. So I ran to the pantry to get to the second floor using a service stairs and locked myself in one of the storage rooms until the cops arrived. The intruder tried to follow me but gave up and ran off. I think the emergency vehicle sirens scared him away."

Damon watched her with an unblinking gaze. "Him?"

"Or her. I honestly couldn't tell. Whoever it was went out the rear of the building and drove off in a car. The cops conducted a search but they couldn't find anyone."

"But you were pretty sure Jo Parker didn't die of a cardiac arrest."

"Okay, obviously, I have my suspicions, but my talent is kind of dicey when it comes to this sort of thing."

"Dicey?"

"I can read someone's mind. I don't investigate murders. Look, the bottom line here is that I need to be absolutely certain about what happened to Jo. That means that I need an investigator who is willing to spend more than five seconds at the scene."

A tiny shriek rose from the kettle. She poured the hot water into the pot.

"Is that right?" Damon lounged back in his chair and shoved his booted feet straight out under the table. He hooked his thumbs in his wide leather belt. "What, exactly, do you want from me?"

"Well, I expect you to determine cause of death, for starters."

"You mean, you want to know if Jo was killed by paranormal means."

"Yes. I want to be sure."

"What else?" Damon asked.

"If you conclude that she was murdered, I want you to find the killer, of course."

"See, that's where things can get—what was the word you used? Oh, yeah, dicey."

She narrowed her eyes. "Complicated?"

"Very complicated."

"Because you aren't particularly good when it comes to identifying the killers?" she asked in her sweetest tones.

"Nope. I'm good at that, too."

She frowned. "So what is the hard part of a murder investigation for you?"

"The complication in situations like this is finding the type of evidence that we can take to the local cops, the kind they need to make an arrest and build a case."

"But isn't that what you and your brother do?"

"Not exactly," Damon said. "Mostly we work off the record."

"Off the record?"

"Didn't Caroline explain what it is that Salvatore Consulting does?"

Elena hesitated. "She said you conducted security investigations for a government agency but recently they haven't given you any case due to severe funding cuts."

Damon looked pained, but he did not correct her.

"That's true," he said. "But the great thing about working for the agency was that the guy in charge wasn't overly particular about the sort of legal technicalities that regular law enforcement has to deal with. Stefan and I were hired to gather intelligence and make security recommendations. We were not in the business of making arrests."

"Let's get something straight here, Damon. Jo was a good friend. I need to know what happened to her. I expect you to find the person who murdered Jo, assuming she was murdered.

"I usually charge extra for that kind of work."

She stared at him, speechless for a few seconds.

"Are you serious?" she finally managed.

"No." His smile was cold steel and his eyes burned. "Don't worry, you are getting the friends-and-family rate. That means you won't pay extra for little add-on services like making sure you know who is the killer. I will throw those in for free."

"Gosh, thanks." Her temper threatened to flare, but she wrestled it to the ground. It wasn't like she had a lot of options when it came to investigators, she reminded herself. "What, exactly, do you propose to do first?"

"According to Psychic Detecting for Dummies, the first step is to visit the scene of the crime." He glanced at his watch. "I will do that tomorrow night when I can get inside without being seen."

"There's no reason to sneak around. As it happens, I have the keys."

"Well, hey, that sure makes life simpler. Can I ask why you happen to have the keys to the victim's house?"

Elena braced herself. "Jo didn't have a lot. She spent her life studying the paranormal."

"Not a profitable career path unless you are a scam artist."

"No," Elena agreed. "Jo gave me a spare key to the building so that I could get in without any problem."

Damon's brows rose slightly. "You two were pretty close."

"Yes." She opened another cupboard and took down two mugs. "Jo was a good friend and a mentor. She was the one who helped me deal with my talent."

"I see."

Elena set one of the mugs on the counter in front of him. He studied the tea she had placed in front of him. Normally, he never drank tea. But this tea was a mysterious golden green. He picked up the cup and swallowed cautiously. The brew tasted oddly soothing. He could feel the warmth flooding through him, and it felt good. It occurred to him that he had been cold for a while now. Strange that he had not been aware of it until tonight.

They drank the tea together in silence. Eventually, he put down the cup.

"I will help you to find out what had happened to Jo Parker.," he said. "But there is something you need to know."

She put down her cup and looked at him. "What?"

"By now you have probably heard the rumours about me," he said.

She didn't pretend that she didn't know what he was talking about.

"Well, sure," she said. "Even my friend Bonnie has heard them."

"I didn't kill Rose Slater."

"I know."

That was not the response he had expected.

"How do you know that?" he asked.

Elena shrugged. "Bonnie would never have left us alone together if she thought you were capable of that kind of thing."

He frowned. "She's that good?"

"She's that good."

"Huh."

"There's one other thing I would like to clarify," he said.

"Yes?"

"For some reason, a lot of folks seem to believe that Rose and I were engaged."

"Not true?"

"No," he said. "We saw a lot of each other for a while, and people made some assumptions. We had an affair, but she was not my fiancée."

"I see."

"She was in love with my best friend, Klaus." He looked at her. "And I killed Klaus."

For a heartbeat or two she did not move or even blink. Her stillness was absolute. She recovered quickly and asked gently, "Why?"

"Self-defence."

"Right."

Elena's phone chimed into the sudden, acute silence. She flinched, clearly startled, and picked up the device. She glanced at the screen, smiled and took the call.

"Talk about a psychic intercept," she said. She walked away from the kitchen table towards the counter. "We were just chatting about you, Bonnie.…Yes, that's what I told him. You can take off for Mexico without having to worry about me."

"Yes," she said. "I promise I will call Caroline if I think I need backup. But I will be fine.…Yes.…Good night. Safe trip. I know it's a job, but try to have some fun in Mexico okay?…Yes, I promise I will call with updates."

She closed the phone and set it down. "It's Bonnie. She just gave you a clean bill of aura health."

"I appreciate that," Damon said.

"So where are you staying in Mystic Falls? Have you checked in to the motel?"

"What?" Damon sounded distracted, as if she had interrupted his train of thought. "No, I'm not staying in a motel. Didn't Caroline tell you that the Salvatore family was originally from Mystic Falls? My father moved to Chicago because of his business. The Salvatore boarding house has been left empty for years. Don't think I can stay there at the moment until someone clean it up. Got a spare blanket for your sofa?"

Blindsided. She stared at him, speechless. A tiny tingle of panic iced her spine. Should have seen this coming.

"I really don't think you should to spend the night here," she said quickly. "You can easily find a motel here in Mystic Falls."

"It's late now and I don't have a car. I'm tired and I don't intend to walk from your house to the town centre to find a motel."

"Right." She took a deep breath. "I will get some blankets and a pillow."

She whirled around and strode toward the doorway. "We will get you check-in to a motel tomorrow."

"Hell." He came after her, halting in the doorway of the kitchen. "You are a coward, Elena Gilbert."

Her head snapped up. "Excuse me?"

"I said you are a gutless coward."

"I got it the first time," she said tightly. "Mind telling me why you think so?"

"Not at all."

Before she realized his intentions, he was only inches away, looming over her, enveloping her in an invisible force field. "You are too much of a coward to admit what you want."

Her temper was rising. "What do I want?"

"This."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Elena's small sound of outrage was totally muffled by the impact of Damon's kiss. It was a marauding, claiming, branding thing that promised fire and male dominance in no uncertain terms. Without any subtlety, he forced apart her lips, his tongue sweeping boldly into the dark warmth of her mouth.

For an instant, she did not respond. A heartbeat later the atmosphere around them exploded with blazing energy. Elena put her arms around his neck and kissed him back with a fierce, feminine hunger that set his senses on fire.

The hair on the back of his neck stirred. He tightened his arms around Elena, pinned her to him and kissed her mouth and then her throat. She responded with a soft cry and an electric passion.

He picked her up in his arms.

"This is embarrassing," she said.

"What's embarrassing?" he asked as he carried her out of the kitchen.

"I told Bonnie this isn't going to happen again," she whispered against his throat as she dropped a kiss there.

"Forget about Bonnie. Forget about everything," he said huskily and covered his mouth over hers.

Energy exploded in the air around them.

The sense of urgency that swept through him made his blood pound. He had some vague goal of carrying her into the bedroom but it seemed too far away. He fell with her onto the sofa instead.

She ended up on top, her legs tangled with his, fingers splayed across his chest. He shoved one hand through her hair. A curtain of dark silk tumbled over his fingers and brushed his jaw. He gripped her head with both hands and deepened the kiss until she opened her mouth for him.

When he slid his hands down the length of Elena's spine and up under the silk blouse, she shuddered against him. He felt the tremor go through her from head to toe. Her back was warm and elegantly contoured beneath his palms.

It took him a frustrating minute or two to unfasten the waistband of her trousers, lower the zipper and get his hand inside where he could feel her warm skin against his palm. When he finally succeeded, he stroked the firm, rounded curves of her buttocks and moved his fingers lower still. The crotch of her panties dampened at his touch.

He was afraid he might come then and there.

She stirred against him, lifting herself away in an effort to shift her position. He realized she was fumbling with his belt.

"No," he got out. "Not yet."

"I only want to touch you."

"Touch me and I'm doomed."

She raised her head and looked down at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"Cool."

She went back to work on his belt buckle.

He closed his hand over hers and pulled it away from the vicinity of his groin. He guided it to his shoulder instead. Then he raised one knee and pressed it tightly against her hip, pinning her there where he could savour the soft weight of her against his erection.

She shifted urgently when he caressed her buttocks again.

"Damon."

He pressed his fingers into the damp crotch of her panties.

"Damon."

She twisted against him. He moved to maintain contact, rolling toward her. The sudden shift in their positions sent them tumbling over the edge of the sofa. He cushioned the fall with one arm. They landed on the rug, barely missing the coffee table.

She made a husky sound, half laugh, half moan, and wrapped herself tightly around him, burying her face against his shoulder.

He managed to get the silk blouse out of her. Slinging the garment out of the way, he went to work on the lacy, cream-colored bra. Usually he was good with his hands. But it seemed forever before the fastening came undone, releasing her breasts into his hands.

He bent his head and drew one nipple gently between his lips, letting her feel the edge of his teeth.

She stiffened beneath him. He heard her sharp intake of breath. She reached down between their bodies, fishing for his zipper. He caught her fingers and dragged them out of the danger zone.

"I told you, do that and it will be all over for me," he said. "I want to make this last."

She looked up at him, stark urgency blazing in her eyes. "Maybe you can wait. I can't."

"Who said anything about you having to wait?"

She looked bemused. "What?"

"I will never let you wait."

He stripped off her trousers, slid between her legs and moved slowly down her body until he found her hot little button with his mouth.

"Damon." Her hands clenched in his hair.

He parted her with his fingers and kissed her intimately, absorbing the heady scent and taste of her body. When she sucked in her breath, he eased a finger into her, working her gently, searching for the magic spot.

He knew when he found it.

She gave a soft, startled, half-strangled shriek, tightening around him. Her climax flooded through her. He could feel the gentle contractions. He knew a rare sense of wonder and a kind of satisfaction that had nothing to do with a physical release.

Then he rolled off her and sat up to remove his shirt.

"Give me a second here," he said. His voice was low and husky, and his breathing was rough. He stripped off his pants and fumbled briefly in a pocket. "Damn. My hand is shaking so hard it will be a wonder if I can get this thing on."

Elena exulted in the knowledge that she was the reason he was having problems with the logistics of the situation. A sense of her own feminine power arced through her. Tonight she was a goddess.

Damon managed to sheath himself in the condom. He came back down on top of her, crushing her into the rug. His eyes were ablaze with a desire that crossed the spectrum from normal to paranormal. On his right hand, his ring glowed with a muted cobaltic radiance.

Her own senses were spiking wildly now. She was unbelievably sensitive to the slightest touch.

"You are on fire," he said. The words were filled with wonder and awe.

"So are you." She stroked the contoured muscles of his back. His skin was streaked with sweat. "You are burning up."

"Never felt better in my life."

A sliver of uncertainty pricked the lush fog of sensation at last. She clutched his taut upper arms.

"I'm not sure this is normal," she said.

"So what? Neither of us is exactly normal."

He was right, she thought. She pushed the concern to the back of her mind and abandoned herself to the exhilarating resonance of the energy in the living room.

He cupped her hot core and stroked her. Fire and ice sleeted through her. She twisted beneath his touch, straining into the embrace, trying to pull him into her.

He kissed the curve of her shoulder. "I can't wait any longer. I need you now."

"Yes," she said. "Now."

He moved, making a place for himself between her thighs. She gasped when she felt him pushing slowly, heavily, into her. Once again she thought she heard a whisper of warning. This isn't normal. Something more was happening here, something she did not fully comprehend. Whatever it was, the meaning was still encrypted.

But he was inside her now, filling her completely, and it seemed to her that their auras were resonating together in some unimaginable way. Then she could not think about anything else except the overpowering need that was building inside her.

Damon began to move. She raised her knees to let him sink deeper. In the next heartbeat, her release cascaded through her in waves of energy that defied easy descriptions of both pleasure and pain. Not normal, she thought again. But incredible.

She cried out and sank her nails into Damon's back. He went rigid, and then his climax broke free, surging through him in heavy waves. His fierce growl of triumph and satisfaction echoed in the shadows.

In that senses-shattering moment, she could have sworn that the flaring ultralight currents of their overheated auras had established a harmonic link, a breathtakingly intimate resonance.

She had just time enough to think, Such a thing isn't possible. But it had happened to Damon and her again.

And then they were collapsing together onto the rug, and she could not think coherently at all.

x x x

"Elena?"

"Hmm?"

"It's almost six."

With a heavy sigh, she rolled onto her back and scowled up at Damon through eyes only half open. "Where am I?"

"In your bedroom."

"No wonder it feels so nice." She stretched luxuriantly. "What time is it?"

"I just told you."

"I wasn't listening," she admitted with a sleepy smile. "Tell me again."

"It's almost six."

Her eyes widened. "Six am? Seriously? Why are you waking me up?"

"I want to talk to you."

"What?" She sniffled a yawn.

"Why did you leave without saying goodbye that morning?"

"Can we leave this conversation later?" She sniffled another yawn. "It's six am."

"You said you don't do one-night-stand."

She was more awake now. "No, I don't."

"Neither do I."

It only took her a few seconds to appreciate, as he obviously already had, the intimacy of the moment. His fists were planted on either side of her head, buried in the pillow up to his second knuckles. His arms were bearing much of his weight, so each muscle was well defined.

He looked serious. The blue of his eyes seemed to have intensified, as the colour of the sky deepened immediately after sunset, changing from violet to indigo, undiscernibly but definitely.

Acting on impulse, she reached up and touched his face. First she smoothed down his eyebrows in turn. Then she touched his cheekbone. Her finger traced the length of his slender nose and finally outlined the shape of his lips.

Gaining confidence, she lowered her hand and touched him just below his right breast. His skin radiated a warmth she longed to feel against him. Her eyes tracked her fingertips as they skimmed downward over several lean ribs, then moved back up to the sculpted undercurve of his breast. She whisked the nipple with her thumb.

Emboldened by his quick intake of breath, she did something she would never have dared to do otherwise. She raised her head high enough to flick her tongue over the distended tip.

Cursing softly, he threw back the covers, lowered himself over her, and pressed his face into her cleavage. He pushed her breasts up from her rib cage. Hungrily he kissed the slopes of them. His stubble rasped her skin, but it was an erotic sensation, and without any instruction from her, she felt her hips lifting off the bed to nudge his manhood.

He rubbed his lips against her nipples until they were thrusting hard, and just when she was on the brink of begging him, he covered one of her nipples with his open mouth. Each sweet tug of his mouth was felt deep within. She clutched handfuls of his hair and moaned with pleasure.

When he pulled his mouth away and pressed his forehead against hers. "Oh, Jesus, that's good. You'd better tell me now if you are not okay with this."

"I'm okay with this."

"No regrets?"

"No regrets."

"Good."

Then, wrapping his hands around his ankles and kneeling between them, he slowly opened her legs. Her initial reaction was to resist, or to cover herself with her hand, or to bashfully turn her head aside.

But his ardent stare was sweet and tender. It made her feel elevated, not humiliated. Gradually his eyes travelled up her body until they magnetically connected to hers. They remained locked onto one another's gaze as his hands slip up her shins. They rotated to the undersides of her legs so that her calves were cupped in his palms. Gently he massaged them with his strong fingers.

Then back to the topside, his hands glided upward to lightly squeeze the ticklish area just above her knees. They stayed on course up her thighs until her fingers were splayed over her lower abdomen and his thumbs met at her centre.

And still his eyes remained fixed on hers.

Alternately his thumbs stroke her. Became slippery. Found the treasured spot. Caressed it with the merest touch. Sparks of sensation shot through her. She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Her breathing became choppy and quick. Her eyes fluttered and his image began to blur. "Damon," she panted. "Oh, Damon."

"Yes, sweetheart. What do you want?"

"I want you inside me."

He thrust into her. Possessively, his hands slid beneath her hips and lifted her to him so that it would have never been impossible for him to be any deeper. Nevertheless, she gripped his ass tightly, pulling him into her.

Each stroke was greedy but also giving. She sensed behind every push a wildness that he barely kept harnessed. Strangely, she wasn't afraid of it. Rather than shrink from it, she responded with a complete lack of inhibition and a ferocity of her own.

His breathing became rough, and he buried his face in her neck and groaned, "You and I…we belong together. I know it..."

Everything inside him went rigid. For a timeless moment, he hung there with her on the edge of the abyss. The searing intimacy was the most profound sensation he had ever experienced. And then he was flying with Elena into the dazzling energy that fuelled the heart of chaos.


	5. Chapter 5

Elena awoke to the intoxicating fragrance of freshly brewed coffee.

 _Damon._

She glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was almost nine am. She bolted upright on a tide of adrenaline. _Damon had made love to her not only once but twice._ She had clear recollections of both of those heated lovemaking. Mentally, she corrected herself: _the heated sex._ No love involved on either side. They barely knew each other.

It was embarrassing. She had told Bonnie that she was not going to sleep with Damon again. But she had allowed him to make love to her last night and earlier this morning.

They didn't make love, she corrected herself. They had sex.

What was wrong with her?

Usually Elena Gilbert was such a 'good girl' with self-discipline and control.

She seemed to be addicted to Damon. She had responded to him as if she had taken a potent aphrodisiac.

Talk about self-control, she thought.

What if Damon wanted to talk about their relationship? She was not good with conversations of that sort.

She climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom. When she saw the woman in the mirror, a sense of dread rose. She looked wanton and well-screwed. _Crap_ , she thought. She could not face Damon in this condition. Her only hope was a shower.

When she emerged a short time later she felt infinitely better. She pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, brushed her freshly washed hair behind her ears, and pulled it up into a high ponytail.

She took another look in the mirror just before she left the room. With dismay, she realized that she still looked a little too pink. Probably because of the shower, she decided. All that heat and steam. The effect would surely fade quickly.

She squared her shoulders, opened the bedroom door, and stepped out into the hall.

Damon was waiting for her. He had put on a fresh grey V-neck T-shirt and a pair of trousers.

"Breakfast is ready," he announced. He placed sausages on the two plates that held the fried eggs and slices of toast smeared with peanut butter. "Have a seat."

It dawned on her that he was acting as if nothing of significance had happened between them. She had been worried about having the conversation, but now she was more alarmed by the fact that he didn't seem interested in discussing what had occurred on her double bed. Maybe he was only interested in having sex with her. He didn't really want responsibility or long-term commitment. She did not want to think that was all it had been for him.

Warily, she sat down at the table. "Smells good."

He set the plates on the table and sat down beside Elena. "I hope you like fried eggs."

"That looks good." She took a bite out of a slice of the toast. "I'm hungry."

He picked up a fork. "When was the last time you saw Jo?"

"I got a very cryptic e-mail message from her the night before I came back to Mystic Falls telling me that she had stumbled onto something very important. She wanted to talk about it in person, not over the phone." Elena took a sip of the coffee from her mug. "I tried to come back here as soon as possible, but by then it was too late."

He caught the faint tremor in her voice.

"There was nothing you could have done," he said quietly.

"I know." Elena set the mug on the table "I know."

Brooding on what ifs never went well, he thought. He should know. The solution, he had learned, was to stay focused on the present.

"Let's stick with what we have," he said. "You are thinking that if Jo was murdered, there may be a connection to the email she wrote to you before her death."

"Yes." She looked at him. "Her email was about Isobel Fleming."

"Your birth mother," he said gently.

Her mouth tightened. "Yes."

"Stefan said you have been trying to locate her for a long time."

"Yes."

"You want to know why she didn't want you?"

She flinched as if he'd struck her. Hurt beyond belief, she stared at him across the table.

"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for." His blue eyes appealed to her. "Please accept my apology."

Her face turned soft. "It's okay. Caroline and Bonnie have asked me to give up looking for her. But I can't."

"I understand."

"You understand?"

"No matter what had happened she was still your mother. Blood is thicker than water. Family always stick together."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. He noticed her expression and did a double take as he lifted the forkful to his mouth. "What's the matter? Did I say something?"

She shook her head and shyly lowered her eyes. "Nothing."

He didn't seem ready to accept her answer. Before he could pursue it, however, the doorbell chimed.

"Who would that be?" Damon turned his head to the front door.

"I will get the door." She pushed back her chair and got to her feet. "I'm sure it's just a friend of my folks' who found out that I'm in town and stopped to say hello."

"Want me to hide in a closet?"

She glared at him. "Don't be ridiculous. We are just having coffee."

"Wasn't just coffee," Damon said as she went past him into the living room. "But who's going to argue?"

She was saved from having to respond because she was already halfway to the front door.

She opened the door, her mouth opened in astonishment. "Matt."

"Hello, Elena."

Matt Donovan was the nicest guy she had ever met. They grew up together in Mystic Falls. And she had come to feel a strong affection for Matt. They had dated for a while when they were in high school but after her parents died in the car accident; Elena had decided to end their relationship. She liked Matt more than any other boy she'd known but it was the affection of a brother. She hadn't seen him since she left Mystic Falls Academy.

He was good-looking. There was no doubt about that. Not in the stunning, almost disturbing way that-that some people were, but in a healthy American way. Matt Donovan was all-American. His blond hair was cropped short, and his skin was sunburnt from spending a lot of time in the outdoors. His blue eyes were honest and straightforward. For a moment her heart picked up at the sight of him as it used to.

Matt smiled at her. "Heard you were in town. You look fabulous."

"You want to come inside?"

He smiled again. "Sure. Well, how have you been Elena?" he asked as he walked past her into the living room.

"Fine."

"Great. That's just great." Then he came to a halt as he saw Damon standing at the doorway to the kitchen. "I see you've got a visitor."

"We are having coffee," Elena said. "Damon, this is Matt Donovan. Matt, Damon Salvatore."

"Salvatore." Matt shook hands briskly, frowning a little in polite concentration. "Name sounds familiar. Any relation to Stefan Salvatore.?"

"Damon is Stefan's brother," Elena answered before Damon could speak up.

"A pleasure to meet you." Matt gave Damon a polite smile. "I heard about Stefan and Caroline's wedding. It's great news."

Damon reached for the coffee pot. "Yes, it is."

"Matt, Caroline, Bonnie and I have been friends since first grade." Elena looked at Matt. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Sure, thanks. Had a latte down the street, but I could use some more caffeine." Matt took the chair that Elena had just vacated. "How long have you two been seeing each other?"

"We aren't seeing each other," Elena said, before Damon could answer. She put the coffee in front of Matt. "Damon and I are in town to handle Jo's funeral and her affairs."

Damon picked up his cup. "That's right. Elena and I aren't seeing each other. But we are close." He bestowed a dazzling smile on Elena. "We are close friends. Very close friends. Right, Elena?"

Elena glared at Damon. "Right."

"I heard you found Jo Parker's body," Matt said. "I'm sorry about that. I know you still keep in touch with her after you left Mystic Falls."

"Jo was like a mentor," she said quietly as she dropped down into a chair. "You are working for the sheriff, aren't you? Did you find anything suspicious about Jo's death?"

Matt shook his head. "Nothing. Post-mortem confirmed that Jo died of natural cause. Cardiac arrest."

She looked at Damon. He knew what she was thinking, because he was thinking the same thing.

 _Murder by paranormal means looked exactly like natural cause._

"Sheriff Forbes mentioned you came back here because Jo sent you an email about Isobel Fleming. You still haven't given up, have you?" Matt asked.

"No," Elena replied. _I need to know why she didn't want me_ , she added silently.

"I understand," Matt said. He studied her with an assessing expression. "How long do you plan to be in town?"

Damon's brow rose. "I got a hunch that you want us to leave town as soon as possible, Donovan."

Elena stiffened. "What's wrong, Matt?"

"Let me explain," Matt said. He grew serious. "You should be well aware of Sheriff Forbes's opinion of paranormal powers."

"I'm well aware of Sheriff Forbes' opinion of me and Caroline. And Bonnie," Elena said.

"She thinks things will be better if you leave town as soon as you can," Matt said. "You are my friend, Elena. I'm worried about you. I don't want to see you get into trouble."

"Let's get something straight here, Matt, I'm not here to cause trouble." Elena's voice hardened. "I'm here to handle Jo's funeral and her affairs."

Matt looked at her, and then rolled his eyes heavenward. "Can I take the Fifth on that?" he said. As Elena's face fell, he added, "It doesn't have anything to do with Jo's death, does it? You two are here to conduct a possible murder investigation, right?"

"No," Elena said after a hesitation, and then added quickly. "Damon is here to help me settle Jo's affairs."

Tensed silence stretched between them.

"It's getting late." Damon said eventually. "You will have to excuse us, Donavan. Elena and I have some business to attend to."

"Yeah, right. Business." Matt shot Damon a narrow-eyed look and then went down the hall.

"I will walk you to your car, Matt." She followed Matt back outside onto the porch.

Matt paused on the second-to-last step and glanced over her shoulder, evidently assuring himself that he could not be overheard by Damon. Then he lowered his voice to a confidential tone.

"What's with you and Salvatore?"

"Damon is helping me deal with Jo's affairs."

A concerned frown furrowed Matt's brow. "Everyone in town heard about the Salvatore family. More than four hundred years ago, Joseph Salvatore was a paranoid whack-job, believing that he had paranormal powers. And there have always been those rumours about the male of his descendants who inherit that aspect of Joseph's bizarre behaviour."

Elena's smile was edgy and cold. "I do believe in paranormal powers by the way."

Matt grimaced. "I'm worried about you, Elena."

"Damon would have never hurt me."

"Just be careful, okay?" Matt stalked back towards the patrol car. "Call me if you need anything."

"Don't worry," she said softly. "I know how to look after myself."

She stayed where she was, lounging against the post, until the patrol car disappeared at the end of the drive. When she finally turned around, she saw Damon gazing at her through the front door.

"So do you date a lot of cops?" he asked, before he could stop himself.

Elena made a face. "That is not amusing. Matt is a friend."

"Friend huh? I think you two are more than just friends."

Why was he pushing her like this? He wondered. They had more important things to talk about, such as Jo Parker's death. But he knew the answer. He had been feeling increasingly territorial since last night. Watching the way Matt Donavan looked at Elena had triggered some very primal responses.

"It's none of your business, Damon." She walked past him into the hall.

"We are a team now," he said as he followed her. "That means you are stuck with me."

She turned around to face him. "You are right. We are a team. We are going to have to work this thing together. But I think we need some ground rules here."

"I was afraid you would say something like that. Let me guess what you mean by ground rules. Do not interfere with your personal life, right?"

"I think it would be best," she said very primly.

"Right. Sure. Your business."

She squared her shoulders. "You said you want to visit the scene of crime."

"That's right."

"I'm planning to go to Jo's place to pack her stuff."

"What's going to happen to her place?"

"Jo had no family here," she paused. "What Jo did possess, she left to me."

Damon's brows rose slightly. "This case is getting more interesting by the minute. You do realize that in some circles the fact that you are Jo Parker's sole heir might be viewed as a motive for murder?"

She went still. "What?"

"I certainly didn't see you as the type to murder Jo Parker for her possession but some people might."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Horrified, she held up both hands, palms out, and waved him to silence. "This is ridiculous. Jo was like my family. I would never do anything to hurt her."

"Trust me, this thought has probably crossed someone's mind."

"The sheriff?"

"Uh–huh."

"You are sure about that?"

"Absolutely certain," he said.

"What are we going to do?"

"Find out the truth."

x x x

"So, we are here to settle Jo's affairs?" Damon said, speaking in very neutral tones. "That's our story?"

He was at the wheel of Elena's SUV, driving into the foothills of Mystic Falls along a narrow, winding road. The terrain was turning steeper and more heavily wooded. Elena was strapped into the passenger seat, her attention focused on the view through the windshield.

Elena had been unusually quiet since she got inside the vehicle. He had sensed how hard it was for her to accept that her relationship with Jo might be viewed as a motive for murder. He wanted to tell her that he trusts her and he would do anything for her.

"I know I lied to Matt. Well, it's not like I can announce that we are conducting a possible murder investigation, now, is it?" Elena said. She spoke crisply, authoritatively.

"Probably best not to bring up the word murder yet," Damon agreed. "You would be amazed how that subject tends to upset people."

She settled deeper into the seat and continued to stare out the window.

"You are right," she said eventually.

"About what?"

"Matt and I go a long way back."

"Uh–huh."

"We dated when we were in high school."

Damon tightened his grip on the wheel. "What went wrong?"

"Matt is the nicest guy I have ever met. But something was missing. He had everything all planned out."

"You didn't want it?"

Elena was silent for a few seconds.

"I didn't know what I want." She sighed. "I still don't know what I want now."

"That's not true. You want what everybody wants."

She shot him a quick glance. "What is it that I want?"

"You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, an adventure, and even a little danger."

She did not respond to that. Her head was turned away from him. He could discern nothing from her profile.

He slowed the SUV and turned into a rutted lane that wound through the trees and dead-ended in a small clearing. A high steel security fence protected a three-story building.

He brought the vehicle to a halt and studied the scene. "This is where Jo Parker lived?"

"Yes." Elena stirred and unfastened her seat belt.

"You ran away that morning because you didn't know what you want," he said quietly.

For several moments, he didn't think she would answer.

She stared out at the window, then back at him, her brown eyes murky and troubled. "I needed time, space, to figure out where we go from there," she finally said.

"And?"

"And I think we are heading for trouble."

"Funny about that," he said softly. "You were definitely enjoying yourself when I kissed you last night and earlier this morning."

Elena flushed at the memory of their lovemaking last night and earlier this morning. "You and I, well, we aren't…"

"You know what? I think you are right that we are heading for trouble. But somehow, I'm having a hard time convincing myself, especially when all I can think about is taking you in my arms again."

He seized her mouth in a hard kiss that robbed her of breath and the ability to think. While she was still trying to recover from the effects of it, he said huskily, "I think we have to try coming at our relationship from a fresh angle. But we can talk about some of this stuff later."

Damon cracked open the driver's-side door and got out. Elena followed. Together they walked towards the building and stopped at the fence. He watched her punched a series of numbers on the digital code door lock and the fence opened.

When they reached the front door, Elene could feel energy whispered in the atmosphere, cold and intense. She knew that he had heightened his talent. He watched her take the key out of her bag. When she got the door open, he moved into the building ahead of her.

"The electricity is still on," she said. She stepped into the hall behind him and flipped a switch, illuminating the space. "No need to work in the dark."

Damon glanced around the building. "You know this place very well."

"I have been in this building multiple times. This building has three floors and a basement. We are now on the first floor."

He looked back over his shoulder. "Show me where you found Jo's body."

"In the living room near the coffee table."

She watched Damon moved towards the living room. "Well? What do you think? Did Jo die of natural causes because of a cardiac arrest? Or was she murdered?"

Damon stopped in the vicinity of the coffee table where Elena had found Jo's body. Energy heated the atmosphere.

"She was murdered," he said quietly. "No question about it."

Elena thought she was prepared for that answer. It was the same conclusion that she had arrived at that night. Nevertheless, Damon's matter-of-fact certainty made her catch her breath.

"By paranormal means?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Damn." She made fists with her hands. "I was hoping I was wrong."

Damon did not respond to that. Instead, he did another short circuit of the room and stopped again near the coffee table.

"What?" she asked. "I can tell that something isn't coming together for you."

Damon met her eyes. "Jo died here, where I'm standing. But I'm almost positive that the killer was not physically close to her when she died. He was standing over there, near the door."

"Oh, crap, are you sure?"

He gave her a politely patient look. "Analysing crime scenes is what I do, Elena."

"Yes, I know. Sorry, it's just that—never mind. I think I see where you're going with this."

"In my experience, it takes a very strong talent to overwhelm another person's aura and stop the heart," Damon said. "I've met very, very few psychics who can generate that much firepower and even fewer who can focus their talent so that it can be used as a lethal weapon. In those rare situations, the killer almost always needs to have physical contact with the victim. But there are exceptions."

A chill feathered her senses. "Yes, I know. You think that whoever murdered Jo used a paranormal weapon of some kind, don't you?"

"That's the only explanation that works for this scenario. According to what my father and his lab techs have discovered, psi-based weapons have to be used at fairly close range. They aren't very powerful or accurate beyond a range of about twenty feet."

Elena took a long breath and let it out slowly, with control. "I have heard the Salvatore Research Laboratory does research in that field."

"Paranormal weapons have other limitations, as well. They can only be activated by someone who possesses some talent. And if they are crystal- or gemstone-based technology, they have to be tuned to the wavelengths of the individual who intends to use it. There are other issues, as well. Naturally occurring crystals or gemstones that can be weaponized are extremely rare." He paused. "Still, such weapons do exist."

Elena met his eyes across the room. "You sound like you have had some personal experience."

"One year ago, Klaus and I were searching for a gemstone weapon."

Her eyes widened. "Did you manage to find it?"

"Yes.," he said. "Klaus tried to kill me because the gemstone is worth a fortune. I know the gemstone is too powerful. No one knows what kind of energy that gemstone is capable of channelling. I couldn't let Klaus take it."

"That's the reason you killed Klaus?"

"He had used some hypnotics on me and they had weakened my power." He exhaled slowly. "I had no choice. It's either Klaus or me that time."

Elena watched him for a long time.

"What happened to Rose?"

There was a brief pause.

"Klaus killed her," he said quietly. "Rose tried to stop him from killing me."

He stopped talking, waiting for the other shoe to drop—waiting to find out if Elena was going to buy his version of events. He had told her the truth, he reminded herself.

To his surprise, she reached across the small space between them. Her soft, warm hand closed over his arm.

"There was nothing you could do, Damon. You did the right thing by stopping Klaus. Who would know what would happen if some crazy people get hold of the gemstone?"

He looked at her. "Are you trying to give me counselling here?"

"Yeah, well, that's all the counselling you are going to get from me because I don't have anything else to offer."

"That's good to know because I'm not interested in therapy," he grumbled.

"Okay, okay, no need to snap at me. I'm just trying to help."

"I'm not your case, and I'm not here to get psychic counselling," he said. "I'm here to solve a murder. You are the client, not me."

"Right." She recoiled, her hand coming off his so swiftly an onlooker would have thought she had gotten her fingers burned. "You are not my client."

Damon shoved his fingers through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry, Elena. I didn't mean it that way," he said tightly.

She made herself breathe. "I know. We will finish this conversation later. Let's take a look at the basement. Jo used it as her office and library."

They walked down the stairs and came to a halt at the basement door.

"Someone was inside the basement that night," she said. "Someone was searching for something inside there."

She opened the door, reached around the corner of the door frame, found the wall switch and flipped it.

Damon frowned when he registered the chaos inside the basement. Desk drawers and cupboard doors stood open. Books had been swept off the shelves. Files had been pulled out of the metal cabinet and dumped on the floor.

Shock lanced through Elena. "Good grief," she whispered, stunned.

"I take it things didn't look like this when you got here that night?" Damon said.

"No," she said. "Someone searched this room sometime after the cops left. The cops were pretty sure nothing important was missing and therefore they had ruled out a random home invasion."

"I will go out on a limb here and say that it sure looks like someone was searching for something he expected to find in Jo's office."

"No kidding." She paused, frowning. "Maybe the killer didn't find whatever he was after that night so he came back to take another look."

"I don't think so." Damon prowled deliberately through the basement, stopping briefly to brush his fingertips across the top of the desk. "I think we are dealing with someone else. Doesn't mean there isn't a connection between the second person and the killer, though."

"What makes you think that there was a second person here?"

"There's a lot of desperation and growing rage in this space. Whoever conducted the search started out with a high level of urgency and left in a frustrated fury."

Elena was fascinated. "You can sense all that?"

"Sure," Damon said, "providing the emotions were laid down with a lot of intense energy as they were in this case. It's what I do, Elena."

"All right, let's think about this. If there was a second intruder, maybe he was searching for whatever was inside this basement, in which case he didn't find it because the killer got to the information first."

"That's a reasonable assumption." Damon crouched on the floor and shuffled through the folders that had been dumped on the carpet. "Some of these files go back thirty years."

"I told you, Jo devoted her life to the study of the paranormal. But in the end, she was never able to prove anything to mainstream science."

Damon opened several folders and examined the contents. "Looks like most of her research was focused on mind reading."

"Much of it was, yes. That's why she and I became so close. I met Jo when I was in high school at the Mystic Falls Academy. She was a counsellor there, the only one who really understood my psychic side. My mind-reading ability."

"Yeah?"

"Never mind," she said quickly. "It's complicated, believe me."

"I believe you." Damon got to his feet with the languid grace of a tiger. "You and Jo stayed in touch after you left Mystic Falls?"

"Yes. Jo knew that I'm looking for Isobel and she was helping me all these years."

"I heard Isobel was also a talent."

She nodded. "Yes. According to Jo, Isobel is a powerful talent. Not only she can read someone's thoughts, she can also control his mind. Apparently, Isobel is strong enough to control a group of people."

"What the hell?" Damon looked at her. "Are you serious?"

"Oh, yes," Elena said. "Jo said if you can channel enough energy into someone's aura, you can take control of that person's mind. Obviously Isobel is powerful enough to channel her energy into the people around her."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"Can you control someone's mind?"

She hesitated. "If I channel enough power into someone's aura, theoretically it should work."

"Have you tried it?"

She had known this was coming, she reminded herself.

"It's complicated," she said. Time to change the topic, she thought. "There's a lot of stuff here. I think I have to clear it out."

"It will be a big job to clear everything here." Damon studied the art work that hung on the walls of the basement. The carefully framed picture was a lovingly detailed portrait of antique motorcycle. The chrome-plated monster, gleaming and strangely majestic, had obviously been painted by a talented artist. "I didn't realise Jo was a motorcycle fans."

"No, she wasn't," Elena said. "She didn't know how to ride a bike."

Damon reached out his hand to touch the frame but when his fingertips skated across the surface of the picture he sensed a heightening in the energy level. Hot psi cracked and snapped in the atmosphere, raising the fine hair on his neck and arms. His palms prickled. "What the hell?"

Elena crossed the room to where he stood. "What's wrong?"

"There is something about this picture." His whole attention riveted on the picture. "It looks like Jo had kept something interesting here."

He removed the picture from the wall and found a storage locker. The hairs lifted on the nape of his neck. "This is interesting."

"What is it?" she asked.

"I don't know yet but Jo must have kept something very important inside." Anticipation sparkled in his eyes. "Any chance you know the code?'

"I can certainly try."

He held his breath while watching her punched a series of numbers on the digital code lock. The storage door opened. Elena stopped breathing, afraid to look and equally afraid not to. She made herself look.

There was a small steel box inside the storage.

Damon took out the box, unlatched the lid and raised it. Hot psi wafted out like the ominous waves of the ocean.

"Damn," Damon said. He looked at the split halves of the gemstone inside. "I don't believe it."

"What is this?" she asked. "I have never seen anything like it."

"I have," Damon said quietly.

There was nothing about the outside of the tumbled-shape cobaltic gemstone that gave away the secrets inside. But the glittering crystals in the heart of the stone glowed, casting eerie shadows across the spectrum of visible and invisible light. Currents of energy rose in disturbing waves. The ring on his finger heated in response.

"That's interesting." Elena looked at him. "Where did you see another gemstone like this one?"

"In the vault in my father's lab." He held up his hand to show her the gemstone in his ring. "This gemstone came from a gemstone like that one, and it's a good bet that both gemstone came from the same place, the Dunham Lake."

"The Dunham Lake?"

"It's a long story, but the short version is that this is the same gemstone Klaus was trying to get hold of."

"Oh, my god…What are we going to do?" she asked, clearly wary now.

"I'm afraid you can't keep this gemstone. This gemstone is dangerous, Elena. Trust me, you don't want to put it on a shelf in your living room." He secured the lid of the box, cutting off the flow of hot energy. "This gemstone has to go into my father's vault for safekeeping."

"But it belongs to Jo," she said. "I can't let you take it away."

"I doubt if Jo had any idea what she was dealing with. But it's safe to say that it's just damn good luck that Jo didn't kill herself when she ran her experiments with this gemstone here in this basement."

"Hmm."

She did not appear convinced, but at least she was no longer arguing with him. A fresh tide of intuition was riding him hard.

"There's something else to consider," he said. "This gemstone is worth a fortune to certain people. Hell, it's priceless. I can guarantee you that there are folks who would kill for it."

Elena stared at him. "Are you saying that it might have been the motive for Jo's murder?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"Maybe that's why she left the gemstone inside the storage locker behind the picture. She wanted to make sure nobody will find it."

"We need to get this gemstone out of here."

Elena frowned. "Hang on, Jo probably had put in a lot of effort in studying this gemstone. I'm not letting you take it away."

"Don't worry, the Salvatore Research Laboratory will pay you whatever you ask."

She fixed him with a cool glare. "What if I don't want to sell it?"

He was pushing her, and it was clear she didn't like it. Elena had every right to resent his actions. He was, after all, taking possession of her inheritance.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said. "I realize I'm hitting you with a lot of information that is new to you. I give you my word that I will explain everything later. Meanwhile this gemstone is coming with us. Someone may come back to look for it again."


	6. Chapter 6

"Let's get out of here," Damon said. He made it an order.

Mercifully, Elena did not question the decision. She followed him quickly out the building.

Damon opened the passenger-side door of the SUV. Elena bounced up onto the seat. She watched him walk around the front of the vehicle. He opened the rear door, set the steel box on the floor and then opened the driver's-side door. By the time he climbed behind the wheel and drove swiftly back toward the main road, the icy-cold feeling on the nape of his neck was getting more intense.

"What's the rush?" Elena asked, fastening her seat belt.

"Just a feeling." He took one hand off the wheel long enough to rub the back of his neck. "Just a feeling which I don't like."

A shiver went through her spine. "You are making me nervous."

"You should be nervous. I told you, those gemstones are dangerous."

"How dangerous is it?" she asked. She did not bother to conceal her scepticism and growing suspicion.

"That's the problem," Damon said. "No one really knows the answer to that question."

"You aren't trying to scare me so that I will let you take the gemstone, aren't you?"

"Damn it, Elena," he cursed silently. "You think I'm trying to steal the gemstone from you?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you?"

His jaw's hardened. "Of course not!"

He drove very fast along the gravelled lane and pulled out onto the main road, accelerating hard. He saw a car parked sideways, blocking both lanes, when he came out of the first turn. A man was slumped over the steering wheel.

The psi-chill that had been riding him hard for the last hour flashed into full-blown awareness of impending disaster.

"Hang on," he said.

Elena looked in front and saw the car.

"There's been an accident."

"I don't think so."

He hit the brakes, slamming to a stop. He snapped the SUV into reverse and shot back around the turn.

The manoeuvre got them out of sight of the blocking car, but he knew that they had only a couple of minutes, at most. There was bound to be a second vehicle coming up from behind. A classic pincer move.

He braked again. "Out. Into the woods. Go. I will get the box."

Elena did not ask questions. She freed herself from the seat belt, opened the door and leaped to the ground. Damon grabbed the steel box and followed.

"Head for the rocks," Damon ordered.

They ran up the hillside into the cover of the trees, aiming for the jumble of boulders that formed a natural fortress.

"What is going on?" Elena asked, panting alongside him.

"Not sure, but I think that whoever murdered Jo Parker left some thugs to watch the house."

"But why?"

"Someone wants the gemstone very, very badly. Someone thinks you know where the gemstone is."

He pulled Elena down behind the cover of the massive rocks.

"Don't let the box get out of your sight," he said as he handed her the box. "And stay down."

"What's happening?" Elena whispered.

He did a fast assessment of the available evidence.

"I think this was supposed to be a simple carjacking followed by a kidnapping. In a minute or so, they will realize that it's gone bad. Won't take them long to figure out which way we went. From this location, I will be able to spot them before they find us."

"And then what?"

He took the pistol out from under his jacket and settled onto his belly to peer through the narrow crack between two rocks. "Then I use this. With luck, they won't expect me to be armed."

"That's a gun," Elena said. She sounded oddly shocked.

"Good observation." He switched his attention back to the view of the road.

Down on the pavement, a man loped around the corner and into plain sight. It was the guy who had been slumped over the steering wheel of the blocking car. A second man got out of the chase car and joined his companion. Together they both looked at the open doors of the SUV, and then they turned to gaze up into the trees. One of them pointed at the pile of granite boulders.

"They just figured out that we are up here," Damon said.

"Not like we had much of a choice when it came to hiding places," Elena whispered.

Down below, both men took out guns and started up the hillside. They separated, working their way toward the boulders, trying to use the trees for cover. But it was clear that they were not accustomed to moving through heavily wooded terrain. One of them skidded on a pile of needles and stones and nearly went down. Dead branches crackled under their feet.

City thugs, Damon decided. Guys like this were used to dealing drugs in back alleys, conducting smash-and-grab robberies and carjackings, crimes more suited to an urban environment.

They were out of their element today, and working under a major strategic disadvantage, whether they knew it or not. They were advancing uphill on an opponent who had the high ground, a fortified high ground at that. And they didn't know yet that the opposition was armed.

Damon settled into the zone. _I can work with this._

The second man stumbled again and fell to one knee. "Shit."

In the deep silence of the woods, the curse was clearly audible.

Damon squeezed off a warning shot. A branch exploded above the second man's head.

 _"Shit,"_ the second man yelped again. He lunged for the cover of the tree trunk. "He's got a gun."

The first man scrambled for cover. "Yeah, I can see that." He raised his voice. "You up there, the guy with the gun, listen, man. We are armed, too. But this doesn't have to get messy. We don't care about you. We want the woman. Send her out and everyone walks away from this now."

Damon let the silence echo. City thugs were no good when it came to the waiting game. They tended to be a jittery, impatient lot. They lacked the discipline for this kind of hunting.

"Hey, we are not going to hurt the woman if that's what you are worrying about," the second man shouted. "It's okay, man. We are just going to take her with us for a little while. We were hired to pick her up, that's all. Someone wants to talk to her. When it's over, she goes home, safe and sound. Nobody gets hurt."

There was another long silence. The first man couldn't take it. He leaned around the tree and fired blindly. Most of the bullets ploughed harmlessly into the ground. A couple zinged off one of the larger boulders.

When the silence became intolerable again, the second man called to his friend.

"Maybe he's out of ammunition," he said, sounding hopeful.

"Like hell," the first man responded. "He's going to wait up there and pick us off if we try to get to those rocks. Shit, this isn't going to work."

"I've had it," the second man said. "We didn't get paid enough for this. Let's get out of here."

"You up there in the rocks," the first man shouted. "You win. We are leaving. Don't shoot."

Damon let the silence lengthen once more.

Cautiously, both men edged away from the sheltering trees and half crawled, half stumbled back down the hillside toward the road. Damon fired two more shots by way of encouragement.

"Damn it!" the first man shouted at the second man. "We have to get out of here."

The first man had reached the chase car. He jumped in behind the wheel and fired up the engine. The second man got in next and closed the door.

The chase car did a three-point turn and roared off, disappearing around a bend.

Damon got to his feet and went cautiously down the hill.

Elena followed quickly. "Who are they?"

"Someone who thinks you know where the gemstone is," Damon said. "Let's get moving." He urged her toward the SUV. "We need to get out of here. You can't stay here. Not now."

"What?"

"Someone is after the gemstone, and someone has decided you actually know where to get it. I'm going to take you to a different location, one that is more secure. You will be safe there, while I look for that person."

"What on earth are you talking about? I can't just disappear."

He smiled. "Sure you can. You will see."

"What are you proposing to do with me? Stash me in a hotel room under a different name?"

"No, we are going to Richmond."

"Richmond?"

"Yes, Alaric Saltzman who works for my father is in Richmond. He is one the senior laboratory technologists at the Salvatore Research Laboratory. We will find a way to send the gemstone back to the Salvatore Research Laboratory in Chicago. It should be safe to stay in Richmond for a while."

Elena shook her head. "Thanks, but no thanks. I appreciate the thought, but that is not going to work."

"Why not?"

"I can't just walk away from here without finding out who is Jo's killer. Among other things, I have my work in Chicago. There is no way I can stay in Richmond."

"You are not going into exile. You are just going to Richmond temporary. I promise you I will track down the killer. But I'm not changing my plan. You can't stay here with the gemstone. It's too dangerous."

"Okay. You are right," she said reluctantly. "No reason I can't leave for a while. Like going on vacation, right?"

He smiled. "That's one way to look at it."

Praying she was doing the right thing, she approached her SUV and pulled herself up onto the high step and dropped into the leather seat.

The passenger door closed with a thud.

x x x

In the car, Elena tried to focus on her thoughts on Jo and the gemstone instead of her relationship with Damon. This was difficult, she thought. It felt good to be here with him in the intimate confines of the SUV, she thought. Not just pleasant or comfortable. It was exciting, thrilling and, yes, a little dangerous.

The intense, intimate energy that had flared between them that first night in Chicago was getting more powerful and more unpredictable with every minute they spent together—at least it was on her side.

The sky over the car darkened, and wind ripped the leaves from branches before their time. Cat's paws of rain dotted the windshield, and then came the flash of lightning and the echoing sound of thunder.

Elena jumped slightly, involuntarily, every time the thunder let loose.

Damon watched the rain beat a steady tattoo on the windshield. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she mumbled. "Terrible weather."

"Yes, terrible weather."

There was another silence. Then he noticed her rubbing her forearms. Belatedly, he realised that the temperature had dropped since they had left Mystic Falls.

"Are you cold?"

She nodded. "A little."

"I will turn on some heat."

They passed a motel, and Elena followed the blurry electric signs with her eyes, looking over her shoulder until it was lost in darkness. Damon didn't want to stop driving. Didn't dare to stop, really. They were headed into a really nasty storm now, and occasionally the SUV hydroplaned, but Damon managed to keep it under control - barely. He couldn't take the chance. He had to get Elena as far away from Mystic Falls as possible. Keeping Elena safe was his only and one priority now.

It was only when a sign proclaimed that the next place of shelter was over a hundred miles away that Damon, without consulting Elena, swung into a flooding driveway and stopped the car. The clouds had let loose by then; the rain was coming down in bucketfuls; and the room Damon got was a small outbuilding, separated from the main motel.

The solitude suited Damon just fine.

As they hastened from the car to the secluded motel room, Elena had to put pressure on her legs to keep them steady under her. As soon as the door to the room slammed shut, with the storm more or less outside and her stiff and aching body inside, she headed for the bathroom without even turning on a light. Her clothes and hair and feet were all damp.

The fluorescent lights of the bathroom seemed too bright after the darkness of the night and the storm. Elena confronted her own image in the mirror and winced. She looked like a drowned rat that had been dragged backward a mile through the gutter. Her hair was damp and her brown eyes were staring out of the pinched and exhausted face of a child.

She was still recovering from what had happened just now. Someone was trying to kidnap her. She shuddered at the thought of it.

Elena shut her eyes as she turned on the hot water in the shower and stripped off her clammy clothes. The hot water felt incredibly good. And right now Elena would swear that she could feel all the tension of the last few hours being actively sucked out of her body and gently soothed away.

Oh, this was just what she had needed.

She felt much more flexible and easy in her body when she stepped out of the shower. She didn't have any clothes with her but luckily the motel had provided them with fresh towels and two robes.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Damon was piling several plastic sacks on the table. He had put on a fresh T-shirt and jacket with matching jeans. He had offered her his T-shirt which he had packed in his duffel bag but she preferred the robe. His hair was still wet but it didn't seem to bother him.

"You must be hungry," he said. "But there aren't a lot of choices from the vender machine."

"Is there a drink in there?" she asked as she sat on the edge of the bed.

He opened a can of Coke and handed it to her. "Have some chips."

"Huh?"

"Potato chips." He ripped open a bag and offered it to her.

She plunged her hand into the bag and crammed the chips into his mouth. She realised they hadn't stopped for lunch.

Damon was munching alternately on the potato chips and a box of animal crackers. "Interesting combination," she remarked.

"I'm hungry. I have burned off a lot of energy since breakfast," he said as he sat next to her. "We have skipped lunch."

"What else have we got by way of cuisine?" she asked.

"Let's see. Sour-cream-and-chive-flavoured chips."

"Good God."

"You will pass?"

"It's unhealthy."

"We have limited choice." He dug deeper into the plastic sack. "Chocolate-covered peanuts if you like sweet stuff. And barbecue-flavoured corn chips. Believe me, this was the best of the lot."

"I believe you. I would settle for a few of your animal crackers."

He passed the box to him. They smiled at one another. He pointed toward her mouth. "You have a crumb." Her tongue dabbed tentatively at one corner of her lips. "Other side." She picked up the potato chip crumb with the tip of her tongue, and it struck him as an intensely erotic gesture.

She found him staring at her. "What?"

"What?"

"You are staring."

He grinned. "Because you are fascinating."

"Why, thank you, Mr Salvatore," she drawled.

He grinned wider. "I'm serious. You are fascinating, Elena."

"Not funny." She took a sip of her Coke. "Tell me about the gemstone."

He sat quietly for a while. Then he seemed to come to a decision.

"You have got a right to some answers," he said. "You are in this thing pretty deep already."

"That's certainly how it appears to me."

"I'm sure you have heard about the rumours of Joseph Salvatore. Everyone in town thought that he was a paranoid whack-job. The truth was Joseph did have a fair amount of psychic talent. And it turned out that he was also a true paranoid whack-job. Joseph irrevocably altered his genetic makeup in an obsession-fuelled competition with the Founder family Jacob Lockwood."

"Oh, my gosh." Elena felt her mouth fall open. She got it closed with an effort. "Are you telling me that you believe that you and your brother have the psychic ability because of some genetic mutations in the family?"

"Genetics are extremely complicated, even when you are dealing with the normal kind. We don't know much at all about the paranormal aspects."

"Good grief," she said.

"So do you think your father also inherits the genetic mutations?" she asked after a while.

"Dad definitely has some serious sensitivity for the latent energy in gemstones. But he isn't nearly as strong as Stefan and me. He can't run a little psi through any of the stones the way we can, for example."

"What about your mother?"

"I would say Mom has above-average intuition, but what mother doesn't? And she runs the Salvatore Foundation like a forensic accountant. But I don't think her ability could be described as psychic. She's just very, very good when it comes to following the money."

"Was there any link between the gemstone and Joseph Salvatore?"

"Joseph conducted some experiments on gemstones that he called the Destiny stones. He sensed the latent power in the gemstones and my father believes the gemstones are powerful enough to alter the genetic makeup.

"Good grief," she repeated. She could not think of anything to add to that, so she shut up.

"Joseph also sensed the latent power in the gemstones, but he never figured out how to access it. He theorized, however, that in the hands of someone who could tap the energy of the gemstones, the stones could be used, among other things, as weapons."

"That's a scary thought."

"Here's an even scarier thought," Damon said. "There are other folks out there fooling around with psi-tech weapon design, and some of them have been successful."

"Good grief, you mean there's another company besides Salvatore Research Laboratory fooling around with para-physics and psi-technology?" Elena shuddered. "That's a very scary thought."

"The good news is that from everything we have been able to discover at our laboratory, there are still a whole lot of serious limitations on gemstones-based weapons."

"The distance problem you mentioned," she said.

"Right. Even for a strong talent, it's hard to focus paranormal radiation beyond twenty feet. Also any beam of psi-energy strong enough to kill has to be very narrow and intensely focused, which means that, pragmatically speaking, you can only take down one target at a time. And para-weapons tend to be fragile and unstable. Doesn't take much to set up a self-destructing oscillation pattern."

She raised her brows. "You have done a lot of thinking about gemstone-based weapons, haven't you?"

"Yes," he said. "The subject has been on my mind for a while now."

"Ever since your last case?"

"Yes."

"You and Klaus went searching for a gemstone weapon."

"Yes."

"Tell me about it."

Damon stood up and walked towards the window. He fell silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts and memories.

"What really happened that night?" she asked.

Damon stared out the window, pretending to be engrossed in something beyond the glass. After a while, he started talking. He knew that he would not stop until he had told her everything.

"You know that Stefan and I do—did—some investigative work for an off-the-books government agency," he said. "What you don't know is how we got the client."

"I assume you don't advertise Salvatore Consulting services online."

"No. Klaus was the one who helped us got the client."

"How in the world did Klaus know a government agency which specialises in paranormal investigation?" Elena asked.

"The Mikaelson family is a quietly powerful figure in the intelligence community. They have strong links with the government agency and they help to set up an experimental covert ops department staffed with agents he believed had some paranormal talent. It was supposed to be an updated version of the old CIA remote viewing project."

"Was Klaus a talent?"

"In a way, but he's not nearly as strong as Stefan or me. He didn't think of himself as having any psychic ability. He calls his sensitivity psychic's intuition. He could recognize other people with psychic profiles if he got close enough to pick up the energy of their auras."

"When did you meet him?"

"My senior year in college."

"The Mikaelson family set up shop on a handful of college campuses, offering to pay students to take what they called an experimental psychology test that was designed to determine if a person had any psychic talent. I signed up out of curiosity to see if their test really worked."

"You knew you had some talent, so you were testing their test," Elena said.

"Yes. The test, as it turned out, was a fraud. It was the old tell-me-what-card-I'm-holding-up-now experiment."

"Useless."

"Right. But Klaus wasn't depending on the results of his test. He was trying to find other people with what he called hot auras. A lot of nontalents showed up to take the test, of course, but he also got a few people who, like me, were drawn to the experiment because we wanted to know more about the psychic side of our natures."

"Klaus recognized you when he saw you," Elena said.

"Yes. He offered me a thrilling career filled with action and adventure as well as the opportunity to use my psychic talents in the service of our country."

"I gather you couldn't resist the offer," Elena said.

"Hell, no." He turned around to face her. "I was young and looking for all the things Klaus promised. Mom tried to talk me out of joining the agency. But Dad was all for it. He said it would be good experience since I seemed fated for a career in the security field. And it was good experience. For a while."

Elena smiled. "You were living every young man's dream. You were a real psychic secret agent. Very cool."

"Good times, yeah. Klaus let me run with my assignments. He didn't ask questions. All he cared about was results. I always got results. But after a couple of years, I realized that I wasn't cut out to work for someone else. I liked the investigation process, though."

"Because it suited your talents," Elena said. "It was satisfying work."

"Yes. But I knew that I didn't want to work for Klaus or anyone else forever. I wanted to be my own boss. In the meantime, Stefan had finished getting his fancy degrees in geology and engineering. We all knew that he was destined to head up the Salvatore Research Laboratory, but like me, he didn't—couldn't—work directly for Dad."

"You Salvatore care a lot about each other, but you're all too strong willed to take orders from each other," Elena said.

"Like Mom says, we are all chips off the old rock and Dad is a very hard chunk of stone. As it happened, Stefan was thinking about setting up his own consulting firm, but there's not a lot of demand for paranormal gemstone consultants outside the Salvatore Research Laboratory. Klaus, however, saw a use for Stefan's talents in the field. It was Klaus who suggested that Stefan and I set up a private investigation business and work for him on a contract basis."

"Salvatore Consulting."

"Trust me, the word consulting covers a lot of grey territory. Klaus liked the idea of a contract arrangement because it was so easy to hide off-the-record investigations that way. Stefan and I went into business. Klaus was our main client. Things went along swell for quite a while. But about a year ago, things started to change."

"What happened?" Elena asked.

"Klaus contacted me about an urgent, high-priority investigation. To search for a gemstone-based weapon. As usual, my job was to get results. Stefan and I don't do apprehension or arrests."

"This was that final job that Salvatore Consulting took?" Elena said. "The one where you went off the radar for a while?"

He glanced at her, surprised. "You know about that?"

"I didn't at the time. Caroline said that you had dropped out of sight for a while in the course of your last case and that something had gone wrong but that you had returned safely. Everyone said that you were taking some time off over on the coast to come up with a new business plan for Salvatore Consulting."

"All true," he said.

"Tell me what happened that night," Elena said.

"After months of searching, I had managed to find the so-called gemstone-weapon which turned out to be the Destiny stone. I knew I couldn't let Klaus take the stone away. Klaus and I had a heated argument because of this. In the end, he had agreed to let me take the stone back to the Salvatore Research Laboratory," he said. He made a harsh sound deep in his throat. "I made a mistake of trusting him."

"Klaus would never give up the gemstone because it is worth a fortune."

"Yes." Damon shoved his fingers through his hair. "And fool that I was, I never figured out what was going on until that night otherwise Rose wouldn't die."

He stopped talking.

Elena moved to stand very close to him. She put one hand on his arm. His battle-ready tension told her that he was reliving the scene in his mind. She did not speak. She did not take her hand off his arm. It was the only comfort she could offer in that moment.

"How long have you known Rose?"

"She worked for Klaus and she was the one who usually contacted Salvatore Consulting on behalf of him."

"Was she a talent?"

Damon shook his head. "But she believed in paranormal abilities. She was smart too. Very organised and systematic in her work. Klaus trusted her."

"You two started dating," Elena said.

"For a while, yes. But soon I realised she was in love with Klaus."

"You ended things with her?"

"Yes but we still remained as friends. I also realised something was missing. I never got it with Rose."

"It?"

"The click."

"The click?"

He looked at her. "The sense that this is the one. I have never felt it with Rose."

"Did Klaus love her?"

"I think he did. I hope he did," he said. "Rose tried to stop Klaus from killing me that night. She wouldn't have died if she didn't turn up that night. She wouldn't have died if she stopped caring for me."

Elena reached for his hand and clasped it. Her thumb followed the bumpy ridge of his knuckles. "It's not your fault, Damon. Rose cared about you. She didn't want to see you get hurt."

Damon pulled her into his arms and wrapped her close and tight. "And you?"

"What about me?"

He dropped a kiss into her hair, and then he moved his mouth to her ear. "Will you stop running away from me?"

"What will you do if I run away again?"

"I will track you down." He kissed her throat. "Yes, I will take every possible way to track you down."

She smiled. "You know there is a saying about people running away?"

He nuzzled her throat. "What is it?"

"Sometimes people run away to be alone, but sometimes they run away to see if you care enough to follow them."

She slipped her arms around his neck and then her fingers slid up through his hair, drawing his head down as she simultaneously went up on tiptoe. She pressed her mouth against his, skimming the inner lining of his mouth with her tongue, rubbing against his, tasting him.

With a moan, she drew his head down farther. His mouth closed upon hers. Something wonderfully sexy happened. They both felt it. Making a hungry sound, he crossed his arms at the small of her back, bending her against his middle.

The kisses continued. As her desire mounted, she thrust her tongue deeper into his mouth. He responded in kind until each kiss was an act of love, a carnal exchange.

Finally, out of breath, Elena tore her mouth free and leaned against him weakly. "Take me to bed, Damon," she whispered huskily.

He backed up to the bed and sat down on it, then guided her to straddle his lap. He shrugged off his jacket and then pulled his T-shirt over his head. By then she had released him from his jeans. He untied the belt of her robe and parted it. Without wasting any time, he sheathed himself before coming back to her. Neither could wait. She impaled herself on him.

"Don't run away from me again," he whispered into her neck. "Don't you ever dare run away from me again."

They hugged one another tightly and remained like that for a long while. Then he pushed his hands into her robe and smoothed them over her back and hips, finally settling on her waist. She nuzzled her face in his hair and lightly kissed his cheek. He lowered his head to her breasts; his tongue caressed her nipple. She whimpered in response.

"Incredibly sensitive," he murmured, sucking her gently. "And amazing, too." He wedged his hand between their bodies and touched her in a way that caused her to catch her breath.

"You are incredible too." Her fingers skimmed over his chest and down his belly. She withdrew his hand and lifted it to her mouth, kissing it lightly.

He covered her breasts with his hands, gently rubbing their centres against his palms. "You are so damn beautiful."

She began to rock her hips slowly. Forward, then back. Barely any movement at all, but enough. Each subtle motion coaxed a moan from him. She squeezed his hips between her thighs. "I can feel all of you."

He managed to gasp, "Yes."

Possessively he splayed his hands over her hips. His fingers made deep impressions in her flesh as he guided each erotic undulation. Then he turned her quickly and pressed her down onto the bed. With no wasted motions, he opened her robe completely, and stretched out above her. When he reentered her, she thrust her hips towards him.

"No, be still, be still," he groaned.

"But…"

His mouth sank into hers. It was a long, deep, and hungry kiss. Their mouths melded in an honest admission of mutual desire, need and vulnerability. Then it changed character. As they smiled against each other, their lips and tongues barely touched. They tantalised, teased, flirted. He sighed her name and she responded in kind. The kiss then became a very sweet, tender, and heartfelt expression of affection. But ultimately passion flared again, and the kiss grew blatantly sexual. Their roles were clearly defined by the manner in which his tongue made love to her mouth.

The lovemaking was compelling and intense, just as it had always been, but there was something different about it tonight, Elena thought. Tonight, not only she had experienced what felt like a metaphysical as well as a physical intimacy at the height of her release. The short-lived sense of connection had been unlike anything she had ever experienced. The alarming, enthralling sensation of psychical and physical intimacy that swept through her tonight were far more powerful and intense. When she shivered in Damon's arms and wrapped herself around him while he powered through a shuddering climax, she knew that the connection was not temporary. Something much more permanent was going on with their resonating auras.

Her last coherent thought before she tumbled down into sleep was that even if she did not see Damon again for the rest of her life, the link between them would endure to the end.

She did not know whether to be thrilled or terrified.


	7. Chapter 7

Elena came awake with a start, aware that she was not in her own bedroom. Her hand collided with a solid masculine shoulder. She sat bolt upright in bed, startled panic snapping through her.

"What?" she managed. The single word came out as a squeak.

"Take it easy." Damon levered himself up on one elbow and regarded her with sleepy-eyed amusement. "It's me. You do remember me, don't you? The guy who was rolling around on the bed with you last night?"

Reality and memories crashed through her. Mortified, she knew she was flushing a deep red.

"Sorry," she mumbled, grabbing the sheets and held them to her breasts. "I was a little disoriented."

Damned if she would tell him that she wasn't accustomed to waking up to a man in her bed.

"Don't worry," he said, yawning. "You will get used to it."

He said it so easily, as if they would continue sleeping together.

She looked at him. "I gather you are quite accustomed to sleeping with someone."

"Well, I like sex."

He moved his warm palm up over her hip, along the curve of her waist, and pulled her down across his chest. One of her legs lodged between his thighs. She felt a familiar pressure and knew that he was getting hard again.

He cupped her buttock in one hand. "It was some great sex last night, Elena. But it was more than that."

The next thing she knew she was on her back on the bed, looking up at Damon. "I liked having you asleep next to me," he said against her throat.

He slid one leg between her thighs and kissed her deeply. All her senses were ignited now, normal and paranormal. Impulsively she clung to him, savouring the erotic feel of his muscled back beneath her hands. Deliberately she dug her nails into his warm skin.

"Sweet hell." He bit her ear very gently. "Got any idea what that's doing to me?"

In a heartbeat, she discovered a new, sexy, sultry side to her nature, a side she had never even dreamed existed.

"Tell me," she whispered. "Tell me exactly what it does to you."

"Makes me hot." His voice had thickened noticeably in the past few minutes.

"Hot is good." She drew her thumb down his strong spine. "What else?"

"Hard." He nipped lightly at one nipple and let her feel his fierce erection pressing against the inside of her thigh. "Very, very hard."

"Hard works, too." She lifted her hips against his. "Go on."

He raised his head and framed her face between his bent arms.

"You know, I'm not feeling real verbal at the moment," he said. "I'm more into show than tell."

She smiled slowly and gripped his shoulders. "Then, by all means, show me."

"With pleasure."

He reached down. She watched him removed a small packet from the pocket of his pants, extracted the condom inside and sheathed himself in it.

He settled down beside her, pulling her close. When he moved his hand between her legs she lost her own ability to communicate verbally. Within minutes she was clutching at him, trying to wrap herself around him, trying to get him inside her before the exciting tension dissipated.

"Hurry." She sounded desperate, even to her own ears. "Please. Hurry."

"Not so fast." He leaned over her, kissing her throat again, his hand still doing magical, tormenting things between her legs. "We've got all morning."

"Damon," she gasped. "Oh, Damon."

At last he was easing himself into her, stretching her, and somehow still using his hand.

"All you have to do is hang on tight," he whispered. "Real, real tight."

She squeezed her eyes shut and tightened herself around his rigid length.

"That's it," he said. "Squeeze me like you are never going to let me go."

He began to move slowly in and out of her. She was vibrantly aware of the psychic energy flaring between them. It was like being caught up in the eerie, shifting aura of the northern lights. They were creating their very own aurora borealis right here in the motel room.

And then she was there, catching one of the glorious, pulsating waves of night light, riding it across a starry sky. She couldn't breathe but it didn't matter. She wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, wanted to sing. But all she could do was allow herself to be flung away into the darkness.

She was vaguely aware that she was pulling Damon with her. The muscles of his back were marble hard beneath her hands.

She heard his long, drawn-out growl of triumphant release. For a timeless moment he pulsed deep inside her.

When it was over he collapsed along the length of her, crushing her into the bed.

He dragged himself reluctantly out of the luxurious state of relaxation that had overtaken him following the climax to end all climaxes and opened his eyes. Elena was lying on her side, facing him, one arm tucked under her head. Her eyes were deeper and more mysterious than ever. She was watching him as if he were some new, intriguing creature, one she had never before encountered. He figured he was probably watching her with a similar expression.

"Well, damn," he said softly.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I don't think I would want another woman sleeping next to me apart from you."

She smiled. "Is that the way you talk when you want to get a lady into bed?"

"Depends. Is it working? If not, I will try another approach."

"Don't bother." She brushed her mouth against his. "It's working."

An hour later Damon downed a long swallow of coffee, lowered the dainty china cup to the saucer and glowered across the table.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked. "Are you sick?"

"Good grief, no. Never felt better, in fact." Elena poured tea for herself from the pretty yellow-and-green pot. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know." He searched her face, frowning. "You look like you are running a fever or something."

She stifled a smile. "Must have been the shower."

They had gone to the coffee house next to the motel for breakfast.

"It's not the damn shower," Damon muttered. "There's something about you this morning."

"Well, I did get a good night's sleep last night," she said smoothly.

"You're not really good with the morning-after conversation, are you?" Damon said.

"Hmm." She kept quiet, trying to think of what to say next.

"But this morning we have got time to talk."

She sipped some tea. "I thought men didn't like the morning-after conversation."

He flashed her a wickedly sexy grin. "Depends on what actually happened the night before."

She flushed. "In our case, there always seems to be a lot going on the night before. We found out that Jo was murdered by paranormal means. A weird paranormal gemstone with unknown powers. To say nothing of the stress of some of our precoital activities, such as escaping a carjacking and kidnapping."

"Our relationship sure as hell hasn't proceeded along a normal path. I will give you that."

"Exactly," she said. "Maybe that's why I'm not sure how to have a morning-after conversation with you. Or maybe I simply haven't had a lot of experience in that department. I have had a few relationships, but they've never lasted long, so I try not to get overly committed. For some reason, not spending the entire night with someone has always been my way of drawing the line."

"As long as you don't have to face him at breakfast, you can tell yourself it was just a date, not a relationship, is that it?" Damon asked.

"Something like that, yes. Bonnie and Caroline think I have commitment issues. My talent certainly doesn't help when it comes to relationships."

Damon took a bite of the French toast on his plate. "Well, your friends are wrong, aren't they?"

She sputtered on a sip of tea. "What?"

He put down his fork. "You don't have trust issues. You are just really careful about whom you trust. And you don't have commitment issues. You have made plenty of commitments, and you have stuck to them."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Years ago, you formed solid friendships with Caroline and Bonnie. You have maintained those friendships for years. You trust both Caroline and Bonnie. You made friends with Jo Parker, a reclusive, highly eccentric woman who trusted almost no one. But she entrusted you with her secrets, and you kept those secrets. And last but by no means least, you are one hundred percent committed to your job."

She looked at him. "I do love my job."

"See?" Damon took another bite of the French toast. "You can and do make commitments. Your ex-boyfriends have never fully comprehended you or your issues. But you already know that."

"I'm the one who is supposed to have the ability to read someone's mind."

He shrugged casually. "Just my observation." He glanced at his wrist watch. "Let's eat. We still have to get to Richmond."

They ate in a surprisingly companionable silence for a while, no conversation required.

Eventually, Elena put down her fork and picked up her coffee mug. "What about you?" she asked.

Damon paused the fork halfway to his mouth and gave her a look of polite inquiry. "Me?"

"You obviously know how to make commitments. You are certainly committed to keeping the secret of the Destiny stones."

"So?" He ate the bite of French toast.

"What happened with Rose? Why did you just let her go? You said yourself that the two of you were very involved, to the point where many people assumed that you were either engaged or about to be engaged."

"She was in love with Klaus."

"But she still cared a lot about you. I couldn't imagine Damon Salvatore letting go of a woman without a fight." _Couldn't imagine any woman wanting him to_ , she thought.

Damon lounged back in his chair and stretched his legs out under the table. "The answer is that I did consider marriage for a time. Everything about the relationship with Rose seemed perfect, maybe a little too perfect. All I can tell you is that when I found out she was in love with Klaus, I came to the conclusion that it was time to end things with her."

"Right."

"She wasn't my kind of woman." _You are my kind of woman, Elena Gilbert_ , he added silently.

Elena had hit his senses like sizzling, sparking, flashing heat lightning produced by some exotic, unknown gemstone, one with incredible properties that he could not wait to investigate, that he was compelled to investigate. It was not curiosity or even just physical desire that energized him now, although desire was definitely a big factor in the mix. There was something else going on. He could not remember the last time he had responded to a woman this way. _Never_ , he concluded.

He wasn't lying when he told her that he didn't want another woman sleeping next to him apart from her.

Because it dawned on him that if he couldn't have hot sex with her, he didn't want to have it with anyone else.

Ten minutes later Damon helped Elena into the passenger's side of the SUV and closed the door. "We need gas. We will stop at a gas station on the way to Richmond."

"Sure."

They drove in silence for about five minutes before Elena broached up the subject that had been on her mind for a long time.

"I'm curious," she said.

He shot her a quick glance. "About what?"

"I can't read your mind. Usually I don't have a problem reading someone's mind, even that person is a psychic. But I can't get through your aura."

Damon gripped the wheel but he said nothing.

Elena looked at him for a long time. "Jo once told me that some strong talents can manipulate their psychic abilities to control their aura."

He drove past a few shops and pulled into a gas station, stopped at the first pump, and switched off the engine. As far as she could tell, Damon was trying to avoid her question. And being Elena, she went straight to the heart of the problem.

"You haven't answered my question," Elena said.

"What?"

"I can't get through your aura."

"That's your problem, not mine."

"You are angry."

"No, I'm not!" he shot back.

"Yes, you are. You manipulate your psychic abilities to control your aura. You are afraid someone will get past all your defences, aren't you?"

That did it. He turned halfway around and flung his arm over the back of the seat. "What the hell is going on here, anyway? Why are you so intrigued to find out what's going on in my mind?"

A man garbed in grease-stained coveralls emerge from the garage and amble toward the car before Elena could respond.

Damon popped the door, climbed out from behind the wheel and closed the door. "I will get some drinks."

"Whatever." Her arms were crossed beneath her breasts. Her face was pinched with irritation.

He frowned. Damn, he didn't like this. Why on earth had she brought up this whole mind reading issue?

He grabbed his wallet and pulled out some money for the man. All of a sudden, he felt a frisson of electricity across the nape of his neck. When you were psychic, you paid attention to your intuition.

"Damn!" he cursed under his breath and turned around. A second man stepped out from the pump behind the SUV and pointed a gun at him.

"Drop your gun."

"Damon!" The passenger door of the SUV flew open and Elena got out.

"Run! Elena…Oh!"

The gun barrel jabbed hard into Damon's side, cutting off his words. He stumbled, breathless with pain.

"No!" Elena whipped around the front of the car but the first man moved forward and seized her arm.

The contact acted like a psychic electrical contact, making it possible for her to pulse energy directly into his aura.

She got a focus and sent out a small blast of disruptive psi.

"Get lost," she said softly.

The gunman went still for a few seconds. Then he turned and started to walk towards the street.

His companion stared. "What the hell? Hey, Pete, where are you going?"

The second man lunged forward trying to grab Elena. Damon was already moving. He managed to seize the man's shoulder and succeeded in touching the gemstone device to his arm. There was a small flash of paranormal lightning. The second man grunted and started to crumple.

"What the h–hell d–did you do to me?" the second man got out, teeth chattering.

"Damon." Elena reached his side. Her voice was tight and anxious. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm okay."

The second man muttered something unintelligible. He managed to get to his feet. He was still shaky and the gun in his hand was waving unsteadily. "What did you do to my partner, you little bitch?"

"I just told him to get lost," she said. She got the fix and pulsed energy into his aura. "Same thing I'm telling you. Leave the gas station and keep walking," she ordered. "Cross the streets only at the crosswalks. Wait for the green light."

The gunman froze for a beat or two and then he lowered the gun. She took the weapon from his unresisting hand. He turned and started to follow Pete toward the street.

Sometimes the hypnotic suggestions worked; sometimes they didn't.

There was no way to know how long the trancelike state would last. She simply did not have enough practical experience. It was an aspect of her talent that did not allow for a great deal of experimentation. But with luck she and Damon would have time to get out of the gas station.

Damon raised an eyebrow. "That's mind controlling."

"I think we better get out of here." She got around the hood of the car and into the passenger seat.

Damon got behind the wheel. He twisted the key in the ignition, wrapped one hand around the gearshift, and pulled out of the station.

He kept one eye on the rear-view mirror, but if anyone was in pursuit, he hadn't spotted them. They weren't being chased by a convoy of squad cars running hot, but then he hadn't expected the police cars would be after them. More like innocuous sedans. A private posse.

He glanced at Elena. She was still shaky and her hand was gripping tight onto the gun which she had took from the gunman. He reached across to touch her hand. Elena jumped.

"It's okay. They can't come after us."

She nodded. "I know."

In her present mood, asking her about her mind controlling ability was futile, so Damon said nothing more.

x x x

For anyone who may have wanted to follow them, it would have been hopeless. Even she had lost all sense of direction by the time they arrived Richmond. A few miles later, Damon stopped at the curb in front of a brick building.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"This is where Alaric lives but he is out of town."

He got out of the car and opened her door for her. She walked beside him to the secured entrance. She waited while he punched in the code.

They went up the stairs to the second-floor loft in silence.

"How did you get the key?" she asked when Damon inserted a key into the lock.

He smiled briefly. "I bought this place a few years. Alaric rented this place last year when dad asked Alaric to work on a project here in Richmond."

He opened the door and groped for the switches on the wall to the right. He flipped two of the six, turning on some of the lights but not all, leaving large sections of the loft in shadow.

Elena surveyed the interior.

The apartment was small, but it was a corner unit with an open, flowing floor plan. The walls were painted in white. The floors were hardwood. There was a comfortable-looking L–shaped sofa, a reading chair, some bookshelves, a lot of healthy-looking plants and a glass-topped coffee table. One corner had been turned into a home office outfitted with a desk, a computer and some storage cabinets.

The tiny balcony and wraparound floor–to–ceiling windows took full advantage of the cityscape view. The lights of the city of Richmond glittered in the night. The whole place glowed with a cosy, inviting warmth that suggested a very personal touch. A lot of time and attention had been lavished on the little apartment to transform it from a living space into a home.

"This is very nice," she said.

Damon smiled. "Thanks. Mum should take all the credits for decorating this place." He nods towards the sofa. "Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you a drink?' He drags his gaze from hers, walking towards the refrigerator. She watched him he hovered at the refrigerator for a few moments before turning to face me again, looking at her expectantly.

"No, thank you."

"Water?"

"Please," she answered as she settled on the sofa. She noticed her hands were still shaking. The toxic mix of adrenaline and nerves following the incident at the gas station was starting to dissipate, leaving exhaustion in its wake. But she had a feeling that a restful sleep was going to be harder to come by than usual tonight.

Damon strolled back over, placing a bottle of water on the table. He sat down on the sofa beside her and crossed one leg over the other, his ankle resting on his thigh.

"Did Jo Parker mention anything about the gemstone before she died?" he asked.

"No. She hadn't talked to me about the gemstone."

"You have no idea what she was working on there at the end?"

"No. She hadn't talked to me about her research recently. In fact, I hadn't heard from her in nearly two months."

"Did she have any family?"

"Not that I know of," Elena said.

Damon uncrossed his legs, leaning forward. "Did she make any contingency arrangements for her collection in the event that something happened to her? Is there a will?"

"Whatever Jo owned, they belong to me now. Jo had asked a lawyer to draw up a will when I left Mystic Falls Academy."

She stopped talking because she realized that Damon was watching her, she raised his brows. "What?"

"What you did at the gas station just now," he paused, "It's a kind of mind control, isn't it?"

She closed her eyes. "I knew you would figure it out sooner or later."

"Nice work."

She opened her eyes and watched him very intently. "It doesn't bother you that I've got the ability to control someone's mind? Most people will be scared and run away when I tell them my abilities."

"I don't scare that easily," he chuckled then his tone gentled. "You saved us at the gas station today."

Elena smiled. "You saved me too. Not only once, but twice."

"I'm not a hero, Elena. I was just doing my job."

"Heroes always say stuff like that, you know."

"In this case, it's the simple truth. You hired me to find out whether Jo was murdered. Now it looks like I'm dealing with a killer who is getting desperate enough to commit murder and attempted kidnapping."

"Do you seriously think someone might have murdered Jo for the gemstone?" she asked.

"Yes."

"You know who the killer might be."

"I had a few thoughts of my own."

"Tell me."

"Joseph Salvatore was not the only one who was very obsessed with the Destiny Stones."

"You mention about other folks out there fooling around with psi-tech weapon design. Who are they?"

"The Lockwood family."

She stared at him, appalled. "Are you kidding? The Lockwood family is one of the founders of Mystic Falls. The members of the Founding Families are also members of the Town Council. Nobody will believe they are the one out there fooling around with psi-tech weapon."

"Jacob Lockwood was as obsessed with his psychic ability as Joseph Salvatore. He knew the Destiny Stones had phenomenal potential. He decided to get rid of Joseph and take full possession of the gemstone. But he rigged an explosion and got himself killed instead."

She almost stopped breathing. "I can't believe this," she whispered.

"After Joseph died, the Salvatore family concluded that the gemstones are just too damn dangerous and modern science is not sufficiently advanced to deal with the energy in the stones. But at the same time, my grandfather didn't want to destroy all records of Joseph's research on the gemstones he knew it's only a matter of time before the world hits a wall when it comes to energy resources. Sooner or later, civilization will need a new way to fuel itself."

"In other words, your family has assumed the burden of guarding the secret of the Destiny Stones?"

"That's what it comes down to, yes," he said.

"What happened to the descendants of Jacob Lockwood? Did they know about the Destiny Stones?"

"We wish we were the only ones who knew about those crystals. Life for the Salvatore family would be a whole lot simpler if that was the case. I'm pretty sure the Lockwood family, for one, is aware of the story of the Destiny Stones."

"Good grief."

"And there was Klaus."

"Klaus?" Horrified, she stared at him. "But he was dead."

"There is a possibility that the Mikaelson family is aware of the story of the Destiny Stones."

A chill fluttered through her. "The history of the Destiny Stones sounds like a dangerous secret to know."

"It is," Damon said.

"Caroline knows about the stones, doesn't she?"

"Yes." Damon turned to face her. "And now, so do you."

x x x

Damon couldn't sleep.

After a while he got up, he pulled on a pair of pants and T-shirt and opened the bedroom door. For a moment, he stood in the shadowed hall and studied the door across the way. Elena was inside that room. She had not invited him to join her. He had not pushed. His intuition warned him that she not only needed sleep, she needed time to come to terms with whatever had happened between them.

 _Three nights of hot, psi-infused sex did not make a relationship_ , he thought. Well, it had for him, but he could tell that Elena was having trouble with the concept. It was probably hard to focus on your personal life when you were worried about people with guns trying to kidnap you. A woman had to set priorities. So did a man, and keeping Elena safe was his one and only priority now.

He went to the kitchen, turned on a light and took the whiskey out of the cupboard. He poured a medicinal shot and drank it, leaning against the granite counter. The heat of the liquor burned away the last fragments of the dream.

When the glass was empty, he thought about going back to bed, but that would be futile. He would not be able to sleep tonight. He turned off the light, left the kitchen and walked to the window.

The Mikaelson family.

After Klaus died, the relationship between the Mikaelson and the Salvatore families were tensed. And there was no question that the Mikaelson can be ruthless when it came to business. If the Mikaelson had come after the Destiny Stones they would have been successful. The fact that the stone is now sitting in that box in the apartment told him that the Mikaelson weren't involved in this thing.

Nobody had heard anything about psychic abilities running in the Lockwood family after Jacob Lockwood died. But that didn't mean the direct descendants of Jacob weren't talents.

There was still something that didn't make sense.

Jo Parker wrote to Elena about Isobel Fleming. What had Isobel Fleming have to do with the Destiny Stones?

Soft footsteps sounded in the hall. He looked up and saw Elena. She had put on a robe and slippers. His slightly jacked senses got hotter.

"Didn't mean to wake you up," he said.

She moved slowly towards him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"What are you looking at?"

"You."

She took a step closer, and then another, until she was only a foot away. She raised her hand and brushed her fingertips across his shoulder.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" she asked.

"I don't want to go back to bed." He pulled her closer, not forcing her but making his intent clear. "Not alone."

She tried to think, but the fizzy, giddy elation sweeping through her made thinking difficult.

"We are heading for trouble," she whispered. "You are aware of that right?"

"Elena," he said.

That was all he said. Just her name. But his voice was rough and urgent. Sensual hunger heated his eyes and his aura. The raw power of his still-hot senses created a dazzling whirlwind in the small space. Her own currents were still resonating strongly with his. Desire burned hot and deep inside her, incinerating the last vestiges of caution. She knew that if she did not seize this moment with this man she would regret it for the rest of her life.

Entranced by the magic and the mystery of the sensation, she raised her fingers to his face.

"Yes," she whispered. "Oh, yes."

He pulled her close, hard and tight against him, and savoured the thrill of the kiss. Elena responded with a red-hot hunger that ignited his senses. She was vibrant, supple, eager; shivering with excitement. Her lips opened for him. Her hands wrapped around his neck.

She returned the kiss with passion but there was an unexpected awkwardness about the embrace. It dawned on him that she was no more accustomed to this kind of intense urgency than he was. They were both headed into unfamiliar territory, taking the leap together.

He understood what had been missing in his previous relationships. This sense of bone-deep connection, of elemental recognition, was intoxicating.

He captured her face between his hands and managed to free his mouth for a moment.

"I don't want any woman sleeping next to me apart from you," he said softly.

"That's good to know." She gave him a slightly dazed smile. "Definitely good to know."

He kissed her throat. "Think you would sleep with other man in the future?"

"No." She sank her teeth lightly into his ear and moved her hands up under his T-shirt. "Definitely no."

The feel of her palms on his bare skin sent another rush of need through him. He removed her robe and tossed it across the sofa.

The dark purple bra went next. He was breathing harder now, but he had to stop for a moment in order to enjoy the sweet curves of her breasts. By the time he was ready to move on, she had unfastened the waistband of his pants with fumbling fingers.

He picked her up, walked to the bedroom and put her down on the bed. Starving for her, he ripped off his T-shirt and pants, then lowered himself alongside her.

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him so that she sprawled on top. The warm, vital weight of her body sent another sizzle of energy through him. The ripe, compelling scent of her arousal was a potent elixir. He was sure he had never been so hard or so far into the zone of his talent.

She scrambled to rain kisses on his shoulders and across his chest. He felt her tongue on his bare skin and almost came apart right then. He moved his hands over her butt and slowed briefly to squeeze the soft, resilient globes. The only thing that stood in his way now was a tiny triangle of purple cotton. He tugged the panties lower and traced the cleft of her rear with one finger all the way down to the source of her damp heat. She gasped and stiffened briefly when he touched the small, tight bundle of nerve endings.

"Damon," she gasped.

He put her on her back so that he could get the purple cotton panties all the way off. She slipped her fingers inside his briefs and found him. He caught his breath, groaning with the effort it took to keep himself from exploding.

He got the briefs off and one knee between her legs. She reached for him, pulling him to her. He could feel her hands on his back, nails sinking in just a little. The smooth skin on the inside of her thighs was as soft and luxurious as warm cream. She was damp and hot and lush.

He wanted to spend hours exploring all her mysteries, but he knew that he could not wait. The energy between them was too fierce, too demanding. The need to be inside her, to discover where the heady, intimate sensation would take them was an overriding compulsion.

"Yes," she said again. Invitation, command and plea fused into the single word.

He thrust into her. Then he paused. "Damn! I haven't…"

"No," she said. She watched him through half- closed eyes. "I want you inside. I want to find out how it feels."

"So do I," he rasped.

He covered her mouth, kissed her hard and went deep, going all the way. And then he was flying on the hot currents of sensation, and she soared with him.

When her climax swept through her a short time later, he followed her into the burning rain.


	8. Chapter 8

Elena was rinsing her hair under a hot, steamy shower, contemplating the simple pleasure of breakfast with Damon, when a cold draft warned her she was not alone in the bathroom.

"I sense another presence in this room," she intoned in dark, theatrical tones. "No peeking."

"I'm not peeking," Damon said from the other side of the shower curtain. "I don't do such things."

"That's good." She smiled. "That's good."

He pulled the curtain aside. She saw that he was wearing trousers but nothing else. She was very conscious of her own nudity.

"You promised!" she yelped.

"No, I didn't." He smirked. "I would have remembered a stupid promise like that. You ordered me not to peek. Different matter entirely."

She rolled her eyes. "You are horrible, Damon Salvatore."

He laughed softly but then his eyes grew serious. "I need to know now, Elena."

"About what?"

"I want to know what you are going to do about us," he said.

Automatically she held the small washcloth in front of her breasts while she tried to come to grips with his question.

"I don't understand," she said, going blank.

"I wasn't fully prepared last night," he said quietly. "In fact, you could say I never saw last night coming. I couldn't sleep last night and you were there, and then we were in bed. There was no thinking or planning involved."

She didn't get it right away. Then he saw understanding hit. She turned pink. "Yes, well, I'm sure there won't be a problem. I mean, it was only the one time. What are the odds?"

"Probably not a good question to ask right now." He folded his arms. "You are not using anything?"

She cleared her throat. "Well, no. There hasn't been any reason to use anything. I haven't been in a relationship for a while."

"The last one didn't work out?"

She thought about Liam Davis. "No."

"Why?"

"Let's say the click was missing."

Amusement gleamed in his eyes. "Ah. The click."

"Can you let me finish my shower so that we can get some breakfast?" she asked.

"One more thing," he said.

She looked wary. "What?"

"Do you think we have the click?"

There was stunned silence for a few seconds. Elena finally got her mouth closed.

"I don't know," she said softly. "I could only say… it…it was different with you."

"There's something going between us and it's getting stronger. Don't know about you, but it sure as hell hasn't ever been like that for me before. Not with anyone else."

She blinked. "Not even with Rose?"

"Not even close with Rose. What about you?"

"No," she whispered. "Not with anyone."

"So, what are you going to do about it?" he asked softly.

She needed to think, to get her act together, and she couldn't do that standing there, naked, in front of him.

"Uh, could we talk about this later?" she asked without much hope. "At breakfast, maybe?"

"This thing between us isn't going to go away," he said quietly. "I think you know that as well as I do. It runs too deep. I can feel it right down in my bones."

"Oh, Damon."

"Is that how it is for you? A bone-deep sense of connection?"

He was relentless.

She snatched the shower curtain out of his hand and yanked it closed far enough to conceal her naked body. She put her head around the edge and glowered.

"You know how I feel about you," she said crossly.

"No, I don't. I know you are attracted to me and that we are probably going to be linked for life by whatever this bond is that has developed between us but that's all I know for sure."

She went still. "You sound so certain about this."

His exasperation flared. "For heaven's sake, I felt something for you that first night in Chicago. You must have realized that. You a mind-reader talent, remember?"

"I couldn't read your mind!" she snapped back.

He pulled the curtain back again, reached into the shower and hauled her out.

"Damon," she yelped. "You are getting all wet."

He took her spa robe off the hook and bundled her into it. Then he pulled her close.

"I will let you know how I felt about you that night," he said. He put his big hands under the wide collar of the robe and used it to capture and frame her face. "I thought I was looking for some hot sex that night because I thought it would take my mind off the incident a year ago. That's what I told myself at the time, but after I slept with you that night, I realized I was wrong."

"What was wrong?" she whispered.

"I have got news for you. I didn't start having feelings for you that first night in Chicago. I fell all the way. Hard. I knew you were the one the minute you walked into the restaurant"

She stared at him, stunned. "You did?"

"Marry me, Elena."

She felt as if she had fallen off the edge of the world.

"That's not possible," she got out.

"Why not?"

"Because we have known each other less than a week. We are practically strangers. There is no way you can marry a woman you hardly know. You know nothing about me. Your family would be horrified. And I know nothing about you. I don't know what your favourite food is, what your favourite colour is and what…"

He silenced her by pushing her up against the closed door and kissing her with calculated deliberation. When she finally gave up struggling and more or less collapsed against him, he raised his head.

"There's something you don't seem to understand about me," he said, his voice very rough around the edges.

She swallowed hard. "What?"

"I'm not worried about it."

"Why?"

He gave her a slow, sure smile. "We can have a lifetime to research and experiment on what's my favourite food and colour."

Anxiety and frustration welled up inside. Why was he torturing her like this?

"You are laughing at me, aren't you?" she said tightly. "Marriage is not a research or an experiment. There is no trial and error. And marriage should not be based on sexual relationship alone."

"Have a little faith, woman."

"Damon, you have to be realistic. We are practically strangers. Our marriage won't work."

"Let me worry about that."

"But you want to run Salvatore Consulting and you have your own dreams that you want to achieve."

"Not as badly as I want you."

She was dumbfounded. "You would walk away from your career for me?"

"In a heartbeat."

"Damon."

He laughed. "But you would probably feel guilty if I did that, so I won't. I will continue my career instead. Easier that way."

"What about your parents?"

"They are the ones who think I should have settled down a long time ago, remember?"

"You are serious about this, aren't you?"

"Given my recent personal history, marriage is one subject I take very, very seriously."

She drew a deep breath, trying to retain a hold on common sense. "This has all happened so fast. We have only known each other a few days, and under very stressful circumstances."

He gave her a considering look. "You know, you should understand that this thing between us is very, very special."

She raised her chin. "I know this thing between us is special." She widened her hands. "But we are talking about marriage here. It is a big step. A very big step for both of us."

"You do know that you want me, though, right?"

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. "Yes, I want you. More than I have ever wanted anything in my whole life."

"That's enough for now."

He unzipped his pants.

She looked down, startled to realize that he was fully erect. A wave of heat rushed through her. "What are you doing?"

"I can't resist you when you are all damp from the shower like this. Gets me hot."

"Gosh, Damon…..."

"Pretty much everything about you gets me hot."

She expected him to carry her back to the bed. Instead, he reached inside her robe, gripped her rear and lifted her straight off her feet. Instinctively, she clutched his shoulders to steady herself.

"Wrap your legs around my waist," he said against her throat. The words were dark and soft and a little hoarse. "Tight."

Excitement mingled with shock, creating an erotic thrill that danced through all her senses.

She enclosed him between her thighs. He held her in place with one arm around her back. With his other hand he teased her mercilessly until she was soaking wet and desperate for him.

He braced her against the door. Then he was deep inside, impossibly full and hard. The feel of him was a delicious shock to her wildly excited senses. She sank her nails into his shoulders as he stroked rapidly in and out.

The release rocked through her almost immediately, leaving her voiceless and breathless. When he climaxed a few seconds later she knew he had been deliberately holding back, waiting for her to come first.

When it was over they remained locked in each other's arms for several long moments, breathing hard, recovering.

Then, very deliberately, Damon lowered her to her feet. He adjusted the robe around her very tenderly, gave her an understanding smile and patted her on top of her head.

"I agree," he said. "You have been under a lot of stress. You need time to get used to the idea of having me around."

Outrage replaced the warm afterglow. How dare he pat her on the head?

"You are right." She narrowed her eyes. "I do need time to think. Lots of time."

"Fine. But I'm warning you, the bond between us is only going to get stronger. You won't be able to ignore it."

She raised her brows. "How do you know that?"

"I'm psychic."

He kissed her on the tip of her nose and walked out of the bathroom.

"I brought you a robe," he said over his shoulder before closing the bathroom door. "Probably a little on the large side but it's clean. Can't remember who gave it to me one year for Christmas. I have never worn it."

"Thanks."

She waited until he was gone. Then she turned to look at herself in the mirror over the sink, hoping she didn't look beet red and straggly haired from the hot water.

She could not make out her reflection clearly. It was lost in the mist of steam that covered the glass.

Fifteen minutes later, feeling almost normal, she swathed herself in the thick, man-sized robe and ventured out of the bathroom.

And she stopped cold at the living room when she heard the low rumble of masculine voices.

"How did Jo Parker get hold of the Destiny Stone?" A man with short, brown hair asked.

He was sitting on one of the counter stools, his back toward her. There was a cup of coffee in front of him.

"Damned if I know," Damon said.

He lounged against the counter on the kitchen side. There was a second cup of coffee in front of him. His blatantly relaxed, sexually satisfied air made her feel warm all over again.

She took a firm hold on her scattered emotions and went forward.

"Elena, meet Alaric. Alaric, this is Elena," Damon said as he saw her approached them.

Alaric swivelled on his stool and saw her. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but she thought she could guess. He would have to have been dim in the extreme not to figure out what had happened here. Alaric was definitely not dim.

"Nice to meet you, Elena." He kept his curiosity politely confined to his eyes, leaving it out of his tone. "We are just about to have breakfast. I bought some muffins."

Elena gave him a fleeting smile. "Hello, Alaric. Muffins sound great."

"I got you some clothes online last night," Damon said. "I don't know if they will fit." He extended her several sacks. "Don't expect too much."

Curious, she peered into one of the bags. "Thank you. I will go change into something now."

Then she turned on her heel and walked into the bedroom, soundly closing the door behind her.

Alaric took a bite of the muffin. "This one's different from the others."

"The muffins, you mean?"

"I'm not talking about muffins," Alaric said. "I'm talking about Elena Gilbert."

Damon smiled to himself. "Yes, she's different."

"You any more serious about her than you were about the last one?"

"Serious?"

"Goddammit, don't play games with me, buddy." Alaric narrowed his eyes. "You know what I'm talking about. It's past time you settled down and started a family."

"I'm well aware of that." Damon took a sip of his coffee. "What about you? When are you going to finally settle down?"

"I was married but it didn't work out," Alaric said dryly.

"But you are still holding on to your ex-wife. Still miss her?"

Alaric was tall, about 6'2 in height, with an athletic build. He can be described as a handsome man with short, brown hair that was gelled on the top and had blue eyes. He often wore casual clothing, t-shirts, button downs, jackets and jeans. Damon always thought Alaric was better suited to the job of professor than a laboratory technologist.

Alaric had been working for the Salvatore Research Laboratory for almost ten years. His knowledge in gemstones and his ethics in his work had made him a valuable staff to the Salvatore Research Laboratory. He had got along well with the Salvatore brothers, especially Damon. But Damon knew little about his marriage as Alaric hardly spoke about his ex-wife.

Alaric shrugged. "I haven't seen her for almost ten years. Not sure where is she now."

"You shouldn't have let her go if you care so much, buddy."

"She was the one who filed for the divorce," Alaric grumbled. "There was nothing I could do. She walked out on me."

Damon looked at him. "You didn't go after her?"

"I did but somehow she had just disappeared as if she had never really existed beyond my imagination."

"Hmm."

Alaric patted his shoulder. "Listen to me, Damon. When you find the right one, you'd better grab her with both hands and never let her go."

Damon remembered Elena's words in the shower. _Marriage is not a research or an experiment. There is no trial and error. And marriage should not be based on sexual relationship alone._ "I will remember that."

Alaric contemplated him in silence. He finished his coffee and put the cup on the counter.

"What do you want, Damon?" Alaric finally asked.

Damon looked deep into his cup of coffee. "I want her."

"Wanting her isn't good enough," Alaric said softly.

Damon spread the fingers of his left hand on his thigh. "I will take care of her. I will not let anyone hurt her."

In the bedroom, Elena ceremoniously dumped the contents of the sacks onto the bed, and found that the selections were pretty good.

Everything was white, black, or denim. Mixable basics. The kinds of garments you would pack for a casual weekend trip. She wondered if Rose had taught him that fashion sense.

She ripped the tags off a set of underwear and put on the panties and bra, then dressed in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, white sneakers with silver leather trim. Not bad at all. The sizes were either spot on or not too far off, even the undies. It made her flush hotly to think that he knew her body so well.

Along with the clothes were some basic toiletries, including body lotion, a lip gloss, a compact of blusher, and a tube of mascara. For added confidence, she applied them before returning to the kitchen, where Damon was eating a muffin. He glanced at her over his shoulder but didn't remark on the new clothing.

"I feel more like myself now," she said as she walked forward and perched on a stool next to Damon. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," Damon said. He set a cup of coffee in front of her.

Damon rested his elbows on the counter, the cup of coffee framed between his big hands. "I was just telling Alaric about our little adventure yesterday."

"You have any idea where did Jo Parker get the Destiny Stone from?" Alaric asked.

"No." She munched a muffin. "Jo hadn't talked to me about the Destiny Stone. Her research had always focused on mind reading. I haven't had a clue that she was interested in paranormal gemstones."

"I wonder how Jo got hold of that stone," Alaric said. "Must have cost her a fortune."

"She had probably bought it online," Damon said.

"Damn Internet," Alaric growled. "Talk about the perfect black market. Anyone can sell anything and not leave a trace. What was Jo doing with that stone?"

"Obviously Jo knew the stone was powerful. That's why she kept it in a steel box. But it's obvious she didn't know what kind of fire she was playing with when she decided to buy it," Damon said.

Elena looked at Alaric. "You know a lot about the Destiny Stone."

"Alaric is the senior laboratory technologist at the Salvatore Research Laboratory. His work mainly focuses on gemstones," Damon explained. "Stefan and Alaric have been running experiments on the Destiny Stone."

She looked at Alaric and then at Damon. "Alaric knew about the history of Destiny Stone?"

"Yes, I do," Alaric answered. "So do you, Elena."

There was a brief silence.

"Speaking of business," Alaric said, "let's get back to it." He beetled his brows at Damon. "Tell me what you found in Jo's house."

"It had the feel of a planned hit," Damon said. "I think the murder was done to silence a potential witness, someone who had discovered something the killer did not want her to know."

"Huh." Alaric's hand clenched around the coffee cup. "I'm telling you that the Destiny Stone is a damn good motive for murder."

"I know," Damon said. "But there are others. There are still some missing answers."

Elena exhaled slowly. "Jo's email."

Alaric cocked a brow. "Email?"

"Jo sent Elena an email before she died telling her that she had stumbled onto something very important." Damon looked at Elena. "There must be a connection to the email she wrote to you before her death."

"Did she mention anything in that email?" Alaric asked curiously.

"It was about my birth mother," Elena said. "Jo knew that I have been trying to look for my birth mother."

"Elena's birth mother is also a talent, like us," Damon said. "But she has gone missing for years."

"Okay. This is getting a bit complicated." Alaric pondered at the thought for a moment. "What has Elena's birth mother got to do with Jo's death or the Destiny Stone?"

The thought of her birth mother could be Jo's killer made Elena winced. "Do you think Jo was killed by…"

Damon shook his head. "No. I don't think your birth mother killed Jo. I think Jo's death is related to the Destiny Stone and somehow there is a link between your birth mother and the stone."

There was another brief silence

"This is all wild speculation," Elena said after a while.

"Tell you what, I will take the stone and go back to the Salvatore Research Laboratory." Alaric looked at Damon. "You and Elena can poke around in Mystic Falls and see what answers you turn up. How's that?"

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Damon said. "When, exactly, do you intend to leave?"

"I will leave first thing tomorrow," Alaric said. He looked at the steel strongbox. "The sooner that stone gets into the vault at Salvatore Research Laboratory, the better."

x x x

Damon came awake on a surge of adrenaline. His eyes snapped open. There was a ghostly prickle of awareness on the back of his neck. Something was wrong with the atmosphere in the apartment.

"Elena." He touched her shoulder, trying to keep his voice low.

"What's wrong?" she mumbled.

"Someone is inside the apartment." Damon got out of bed in a swift movement.

She was awake now. "There's someone out there?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure." He picked up his trousers. "Stay here and don't let the steel box out of your sight. Understand?"

"Yes."

She pushed aside the covers and got to her feet, barely aware of the cold floor.

Damon took the gun out of the bedside drawer. Fear zinged through her, icing her blood.

"Damon…"

"I'm going to take a look outside. You will stay here. Understood?"

She wanted to argue. She thought about saying something intelligent such as let's call the cops, but it would take a while for help to arrive. She reminded herself that Damon knew what he was doing. Let the man do his job, she thought.

She stepped into her slippers, grabbed her robe, and watched Damon crossed the room bedroom and disappeared through the shadowed doorway.

Ominous energy whispered in the shadows. Elena was suddenly chilled to the bone. All her senses were on high alert. She couldn't let Damon deal with this alone. Clutching the lapels of her robe, she followed Damon out of the room.

"Damon…" she began.

"I told you to stay inside." He peered at her with an air of calm authority.

"I'm not leaving you alone," she said stubbornly. "We are in this together."

He gave her an annoyed glance. "Stay behind me," he ordered.

The apartment was far too quiet. There were no footsteps or voices, but Damon's intuition warned him that he was not alone. Someone else waited in the shadows. Elena followed him closely. She watched him take his pistol and his ring was infused with energy. There was the stillness of the hunter about Damon now. He was very focused, very intent. Very dangerous.

She did not know what to expect, a threat or a command from an armed gunman, perhaps. But there was only a strange, unnatural silence that seemed to deepen by the second. It was wrong. The apartment was taking on a weird, dreamlike quality.

The place was undergoing a bizarre transformation. The space around them was assuming an increasingly unreal aspect, as if it was sliding into another dimension. The funiture grew longer, stretching away into infinity. The concrete wall morphed into Mobius strips.

"Is it just me or is this starting to look like a bad dream?" she whispered.

"Looks that way to me, too."

She took comfort from that news. She wasn't in this alone. She wanted to explain the reason for her reluctance to follow orders, but this did not seem to be the time or place for an extended conversation.

The senses-dazzling energy exploded out of nowhere. It was as if someone had lobbed a paranormal grenade directly in front of them. Elena instinctively shut her eyes, but that did little to reduce the terrible glare. The explosion of searing ultralight affected her para-senses far more than it did her normal vision.

"Don't waste your time and energy trying to fight it, Salvatore." The dark voice came out of the shadows. It was strangely distorted. "My power will take over your mind. It will soon overwhelm your senses. My advice is to shut down your talent before you burn out."

"You can't control my brain," Damon said. "This kind of trick doesn't work on me."

"It won't do you any good. But go ahead and try to overcome it if you like. When you are satisfied that my power is stronger than you are, we can get down to business. Assuming you are still awake, that is. I'm sure you are aware of the downside of a serious psi-burn."

"I'm looking forward to it," Damon said.

Elena sensed another rush of hot energy in his aura and knew that he had done something with his ring. She realized that he was pushing an enormous amount of energy through the stone.

There was a loud bang as someone fell onto the wooden floor. The ultrawhite-hot glare that had filled the space abruptly winked out of existence. When her dazzled senses cleared, Elena realized that the apartment had returned to normal.

"Shit." The epithet was accompanied by a harsh gasp of pain. It was a woman's voice.

The woman's voice was no longer distorted. It was, however, clearly annoyed. "You are a real son of a bitch, Salvatore. How the hell did you do that?"

"Your mind controlling trick creates sort of like a visual hallucination and people can get drawn into it but there is a weakness." There was a short pause before Damon added politely, "I found it. I found your weakness."

"Fortunately, I brought back up."

"A real gun?" Damon said. "Good thinking."

"I assume you have one, too?"

"What do you think?"

"That you have got one." There was resignation and irritation in the woman's voice. "How did you find my weakness?"

"I might give you that information if you tell me who you are and why are you here," Damon said.

Alaric appeared. Elena saw the small pistol in his hand.

"Is everything okay?" Alaric asked.

"Yes," Damon said. "Get the lights."

Alaric flipped a wall switch. His eyes widened, in shock, when he saw the woman shivering in the middle of the living room.

"Isobel?" Alaric's voice rose in disbelief. "What in the world are you doing here?"

Damon and Elena looked at each other, stunned.

But Damon was the first to recover. "You are Isobel?"He glanced at Alaric, frowning. "Do you know her, Alaric?"

Alaric exhaled slowly. "She is my ex-wife, Isobel Fleming."

Elena went cold and still. His announcement hit her like a blow in the stomach and robbed her of logical thought.

"Who are you?" Damon demanded. "What do you want?"

Isobel managed to get to her feet. She was trembling. "Yes, I'm Isobel Fleming." She turned to look at Elena. "I'm your mother, Elena."

The sound of her name coming from Isobel's mouth made Elena's heart lurch.

Alaric's eyes widened. "What?" He looked at Isobel. "You are Elena's mother?"

Isobel nodded. "Yes, I'm Elena's mother."

Raking his fingers through his, Alaric muttered a curse under his breath. "I can't believe this."

"What are you doing here?" Damon inquired coldly. "Don't play games with me. Did someone send you here?"

Isobel sighed and crossed the room to sit on the sofa. "I think my reason for being here would be obvious to you, Salvatore." She paused. "I came to get the Destiny Stone."

Anger flashed through Elena. "You are the one who killed Jo, aren't you? You found out she had the Destiny Stone, so you killed her. I'm going to have you arrested."

"Calm down, Elena. I didn't kill Jo. Jo was already dead when I came back to Mystic Falls."

"Why should I believe you?"

"You were the one who searched Jo's office after her body was removed, weren't you?" Damon asked.

"How could you do such a thing?" Elena hissed. "Talk about invading the privacy of the dead. Talk about illegal as hell. It's called breaking and entering, you know. People go to jail for stuff like that."

"All right, I dropped by her place that day, but I swear I didn't kill her. And I didn't break in," Isobel said. "The back door was unlocked when I got there. All I wanted was the Destiny Stone. I wouldn't harm anyone."

"But you are trying to take it by force tonight," Damon said.

"Because, unfortunately, you are in possession of the stone at the moment, and I doubt that you will give it up without a fight."

"Good guess."

"Why do you want the Destiny Stone?" Damon asked. "Did someone send you to get the stone?"

Isobel shook her head. "No. I'm not working for anyone."

"Don't believe her," Elena said coldly. "She is lying. She can't be trusted."

Isobel stood up. "I'm not lying. I don't work for anyone."

"Where have you been all these years, Isobel?" Alaric asked. "Do you know I have been trying to look for you?"

Isobel looked at him. There was pain in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Alaric. I know you love me but I can't be your wife. I don't deserve your love."

"She is right, Alaric," Elena grumbled. "She doesn't deserve your love."

Isobel looked at Elena. "You hate me. Good."

"Does that make it easier for you?" Elena asked. Her temper was rising. "If you didn't want me, why didn't you get an abortion?"

"I know you spent all this time trying to track me down. What did you think you would find?" Isobel asked.

"The woman who gave birth to me. The woman who was supposed to my mother," Elena almost yelled out.

Isobel kept her face impassive. "Grayson and Miranda were better parents. They took good care of you."

"Yes, they did. They were great parents." Elena made a fist at her side. "Thank you for everything, Isobel."

Isobel looked at her. "For what?"

"For being such a monumental disappointment. It keeps the memory of my real mother perfectly intact."

There was a short, pregnant pause.

"Let's return to the subject of the Destiny Stone," Damon said. "Why are you after the stone?"

Isobel looked at Damon. "I'm sure you have heard about the story of your ancestor Joseph Salvatore."

Another sharp silence struck the room.

Damon moved toward Isobel. "How did you know about Joseph Salvatore? What do you know about the Destiny Stone?"

"Joseph sensed the latent power in the gemstones, but he never figured out how to access it. He theorized, however, that in the hands of someone who could tap the energy of the gemstones, the stones could be used, among other things, as weapons." Isobel lifted her chin. "A talent like me can tap the energy of the stone."

Damon went still. "You can tap the energy of the Destiny Stone?"

"I can't believe it!" Alaric hissed.

"What do you want to do with the stone?" Elena demanded. "Are you trying to use it as a weapon?"

"You are a talent like me, aren't you?" Isobel's gaze met hers. "At first I thought you could only read auras. But you are like me. You used your mind controlling ability on the two gunmen the other day. Your talent is quite unique."

Elena went cold. "You are the one who sent the gunmen after us?"

"I know you are close to Jo and you are most likely to know where the Destiny Stone is." Isobel paused. "I had no choice. But I give you my word I never intend to hurt you."

Damon frowned. "Are you trying to tell me that Elena can also use her talent to tap the energy of the stone?"

"I'm fairly certain she can," Isobel said as she glanced at Elena. "She may be more powerful than you imagine, Salvatore."

"Well, for your information, Isobel, I'm not going to use my talent on the Destiny Stone," Elena said. "Nobody knows how powerful the stone is. I don't want anyone get hurt or die because of it."

"Good point," Isobel said. "But there are other people who will do anything to get hold of the Destiny Stone. And if words get out that you are the key to the energy of the stone, you will be their target. Just like me."

Alaric gripped Isobel upper arm and spun her around to face him. "Is that the reason you left? Was someone looking for you?"

"Who are you running away from, Isobel?" Damon asked.

"You don't want to lose her, Salvatore." Isobel pulled herself out of Alaric's grasp. "Take good care of her."

"You aren't leaving until you have explained everything," Elena said. "Are you in danger?"

"I have talked more than I should," Isobel said as she stalked toward the front door. "I will say good-bye for now but it doesn't mean I'm giving up on the stone. I will look forward to a future meeting, Salvatore." She stepped outside into the cold darkness and closed the door very softly.

"Isobel, wait!" Alaric followed her out of the apartment. The living room went silent.

"Are you okay?" Damon asked.

Elena hurled herself against his chest. His arms closed fiercely around her.


	9. Chapter 9

Damon opened the minibar, chose two small bottles, the whiskey and the brandy. He twisted the top off one of the liquor bottles and swallowed some of the whiskey. He contemplated the closed door of the bathroom while he downed the medicinal alcohol.

He concentrated on securing the apartment, but there was no getting around the fact that a part of him was consumed by the prowling tension that was the usual first phase of the post-burn syndrome. _You have been here before_ , he thought. _You can handle it_.

The biochemistry of a heavy burn was complicated and not well understood. For males, there was a lot of adrenaline and testosterone involved, so the sexual arousal was predictable. But the hungry, urgent restlessness had never been this bad in the past. It didn't take a psychic to know why the sensation was so overwhelming tonight. It had a focus, and that focus was Elena.

He forced himself to go through the drill. His hand shook a little when he took the bottles of whiskey and brandy. Inside the apartment, he secured the door and did a quick survey. The windows were also locked. He had to stay focused on getting her securely buttoned up for the night so that he could crash without having to worry about her safety.

Elena had stopped crying a few minutes ago and fled into the bathroom. The door closed behind her.

He was not sure what he should say or do. It was clear that Elena was accustomed to handling her problems all by herself or with the help of her close-knit circle of friends. But he happened to be the one who was here tonight. And he knew how much finding her birth mother meant to her.

For some reason, the knowledge that she did not want to share her feelings with him hit him harder than the damn psi-burn had. And then he got mad; not at Elena, at himself. That was another problem with the burn-and-crash routine. It pushed everything, including normal, logical thought processes, to the edge. It made for a real roller-coaster ride.

Damon was intensely aware that he was experiencing the effects of a strong afterburn. He dropped into the sofa and propped his feet on the coffee table. He rested his head against the back of sofa. He was using alcohol to bring himself down harder and faster. Soon he would crash.

Elena emerged a short time later. Her face was flushed and a little blotchy from the crying jag. Her hair was somewhat damp from the hasty cold-water splash. She looked sexy as hell in the shadows. An elemental thrill of possessiveness swept through him. He drank some more of the whiskey.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yes. Fine."

Elena's voice was tight and hoarse. He tried to figure out where to go next but he was too exhausted to try.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly as she sat down on the sofa beside him. "You look exhausted."

"I just need sleep."

"Are you drinking something?"

"Yeah." He opened the second bottle. "Helps take the edge off the afterburn buzz."

"Isobel's power affected you."

"Hmm."

Elena looked thoughtful. "What, exactly, did you do with your ring?"

He looked down at the stone. It was no longer infused with power, but in the shadow it still glowed.

"Damned if I know," he said.

"Good grief." She stared at him. "Seriously? You don't know how that stone does what it does?"

"I have only performed that particular trick on one other occasion." He drank more of the brandy. "Someone was trying to kill me at the time."

"You are talking about your last case again, aren't you?"

"Yes." He lowered the bottle.

"The gemstone in your ring is exactly the same as the Destiny Stone, isn't it?" Elena asked. "You must have some theory about how the stone works."

He studied the ring. "I can focus psychic energy through it, but it feels like I'm trying to control summer lightning when I do it. There's a lot of wild power in the stone, but as far as I can tell, all it seems to do is dampen other paranormal currents in the vicinity." He paused. "Including human auras."

"You mean you can use it like a weapon?"

"Over a short distance, yes."

"The power in the stone affects Isobel's aura and therefore her visual hallucinations didn't work on you. That's the reason why I can't read your mind."

"What?" It was getting hard to concentrate. The deep weariness was getting heavier.

"I said the stone affects my aura and that's why I can't read your mind."

"Hmm."

"Okay, I'm no expert on the subject of paranormal gemstone physics, but based on what I observed tonight when you used the ring, I think your aura generates some wavelengths that resonate naturally with the stone," she said.

"Huh." He tried to think about the physics involved, but he was too far gone.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently. "I have never been close to anyone else who is going through a psi-burn, so I didn't know what it looked like."

"I will be fine." He watched the blaze in the ring. "But I have only used the stone at full throttle twice—today and on my last case. I won't know if there's any juice left in it until I have had a chance to get some rest."

She was silent for a time. He felt energy shift in the space and knew she had slipped into a trance. Damon closed his eyes and savoured the gently charged atmosphere.

"Go ahead," he said. "Read my mind. But I will warn you, it makes me hot."

"You are too tired to get hot."

"Shows how much you know." He said softly.

She pretended she hadn't heard him and concentrated on her aura.

Suddenly she knew what had happened in New York one year ago. She saw it all from Damon's perspective.

…A dark figure approaching swiftly out of the shadows. Confusion and then skyrocketing terror. The sickening knowledge that he had been a fool to believe Klaus.

…Then there was an unearthly cold seeping into him. Rose was on the ground. She was dead. He could do nothing to bring her back.

He opened his eyes. "What do you see?"

Elena blinked and slipped out of the trance. She was stunned by the dark, seething energy of violence that pooled around in Damon's mind. He felt the psi levels go back to what passed for normal between them. Nothing will ever be normal for us, Elena Gilbert, he thought.

"You need to rest," she said.

"Hmm." He closed his eyes.

The deep sleep crept over him.

He needed to relax, she thought. She might be able to help him get the true sleep he required tonight, however.

Gingerly she put her palm on his shoulder. He stirred but did not awaken. Damon was into control. She was almost certain that he would not like what she was about to do. On the other hand, if the procedure worked he would get the rest he needed. She could always explain and apologize in the morning.

She opened her senses to the max, cautiously tuning in to the currents of his aura. The currents were strong, but they weren't painful.

And then she was into the pattern, getting a fix. The dark taint of his last case was more obvious now. The stuff was disturbing a portion of Damon's aura spectrum in an unwholesome way, and it was very powerful. But she might be able to calm the disturbance temporarily, long enough for him to get some real rest. It was the same technique she used to give her clients who were tense and edgy.

She went to work, pulsing delicate currents of psi into Damon's field.

Energy recoiled across the spectrum like the blowback of a firestorm, stunning her. She lost her focus. Before she could retreat she was caught in a fist of raw power. Like a surfer with bad timing she was sucked under and tumbled along the bottom of the sea. She snatched her hand off Damon's shoulder, heart pounding, fighting for air.

Damon opened his eyes and looked at her, hot psi burning in his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?" His voice was shockingly calm and cold.

She sat up fast and took several breaths in an attempt to pull herself together. "Sorry," she managed. "I was just trying to make sure you got some proper sleep."

"How?"

"Uh, well, it's part of my talent."

"You can put people to sleep?"

She winced. "No, but I can control someone's mind to make them relax. That doesn't sound good, does it?"

"No."

"Sorry," she repeated. "I wouldn't have hurt you. I think you know that. I just wanted to make sure you got a good night's sleep."

"How?" he said again.

She sighed. "Well, if you let me, I can sort of adjust your aura."

"Sort of adjust it?"

"Just a smidge, honest. Your last case seriously affected your aura."

"And you think you can overcome the effects?"

"I think so, yes. Temporarily. Long enough to make you relax, at least."

He thought about that. "Could you make me relax?"

"Not now that you are fully awake, no. You are too powerful. You would have to cooperate. And to do that you would have to trust me, I mean really trust me."

"Huh."

"Sorry."

"You said that a couple of times already."

"Right. Sorry."

He just looked at her. There was still a little anger in his eyes.

"But you can control some people, can't you?" he said. "That's what you did to the two gunmen."

She hesitated and then nodded. "Yes. We were in danger. I had no choice."

Damon was silent for a moment. "And now you want to control my mind."

She smiled, rueful. "After what I just told you, I can understand why you would be reluctant to let me help you."

"Try it," he said.

She blinked. "You really want me to control your mind and make you relax?"

"You are right; I can't keep running on psi. I need some real sleep. Do your thing. Let's see if it works."

"Like I said, you would have to cooperate," she said. "You would have to open your senses and not fight me."

"I trust you."

She took another deep breath. "All right, here it goes."

She felt energy whisper in the atmosphere again. She elevated her own senses in response, seeking a gentle, soothing pattern. He watched her for a moment, not resisting, and then he closed his eyes.

He was suddenly, completely asleep. But this time the energy felt stable. She did a little more tweaking to ensure that the currents would remain steady for a few hours, and then she carefully withdrew from the pattern.

She waited, but Damon remained sound asleep. Sound asleep. She studied him with a growing sense of wonder. The neon-infused moonlight filtering through the thin curtains gleamed on his sleekly muscled shoulder.

It dawned on her that, for the first time in her life, she actually cared so much about a man.

She was falling for Damon.

No, she was in love with Damon.

Damon wanted her to marry him.

Did Damon love her as well?

He said he had feelings for her but was it love?

She couldn't deny she liked sharing a bed with Damon. They had great sex together. But sex wasn't everything in a relationship.

Damon was not the only one experiencing the effects of a strong afterburn. There was a lot of edgy energy in her aura. She had not taken the full force of Isobel's aura because it had been focused on him, but she had caught some of the blowback. She was experiencing some of the downside, too.

Elena rested her head against the back of the sofa. She fell asleep before she could contemplate the implications of what it all meant.

x x x

A long time later Damon stirred on the sofa. For the first time in a year he awoke feeling rested and genuinely refreshed. He glanced at his watch. It was almost noon. He had slept for more than eight hours, but it was clear that he had recovered from the heavy exhaustion that followed a hard burn. He was alone in the living room. Elena was evidently making lunch, and he could hear her moving about in the kitchen.

He rolled out of the sofa and got to his feet. There was something very intimate about seeing her like this, he thought. She was wearing the jeans she'd had on yesterday, but the top was different, a black V-neck T-shirt this time. It was obvious that she had showered. Her hair was still damp. She had pulled it back behind her ears to dry.

He smiled. She was the sexiest woman he had ever seen in his life.

For a moment, he just stood there, absorbing the sight of her, the sensation of her subtle feminine power, and remembering the bone-deep sense of intimacy that had connected them. He was aware of a compelling need to keep her close, keep her safe.

She turned around and saw him standing near the counter. "You are awake."

"Yes, I'm," he replied.

"How did you sleep?" She closed the door of the refrigerator. "The sofa is a little on the small side for a man of your size, but you were sound asleep. I didn't want to wake you."

"What are you cooking?"

"I'm not a good cook. But I found a can of soup and some bread." She smiled as she put the canned soup she had prepared into a bowl and the sandwich she had made for him onto a plate. "You have to eat in order to keep your strength up."

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "This is very nice of you."

"It's only a simple lunch." She put the plate of sandwiches on the counter. "I hope you don't mind."

Smiling, he sat down at the counter. "Smells good."

When she put the steaming bowl in front of him, he discovered that he was hungry. In fact, he was suddenly starving. He picked up the spoon and started to eat. Nothing had tasted so good in a very long time. The sense of well-being flooded back. Nothing like home cooking to put the world to rights.

Elena sat down across from him. She looked pleased to see him eating with enthusiasm. "I'm glad you like the soup. It's mushroom soup but I have added some onion and celery in it."

"Taste delicious," he said as he took a bite of the sandwich.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good." He paused and then did what had to be done. "Thanks to you. I haven't felt so rested and refreshed if you hadn't helped me relaxed last night. I owe you."

She raised her brows. "No, you don't owe me any more than I owe you. I don't know what I would do if you weren't here. Thank you…thank you for everything."

Damon frowned. The last thing he wanted was her gratitude.

"I have told you before, I'm just doing my job," he said, trying to sound cool and in control, like a man who could handle his job. "Don't forget you hire the Salvatore Consulting to investigate this case."

The words acted like a dash of icy water on Elena's senses. She straightened in her chair and shoved her fingers through her hair.

"Right," she said. "I'm your client."

His jaw tightened. First he had to deal with her gratitude. Now she was treating him as a business consultant. This relationship was going downhill fast.

"What's that suppose to mean?" he asked.

"If you will excuse me, I'm going to give my secretary a call," she said. "I still have a business to run."

She pushed herself up out of the chair. But Damon was already on his feet, blocking her path. His jaw was steel-hard and his eyes burned.

"What's going on?" he asked.

She held her ground. Show no weakness.

She gave him a blandly polite smile. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Don't give me that." Damon wrapped his hands around her shoulders. "What's going on today? Every time I turn around, you are either thanking me or trying to treat me as if we are practically strangers."

"We are strangers." She kept her tone light and polite. "We have only known each other for a few days."

He felt himself grow cold inside. She was trying to edge away from him. Trying to put some distance between them. Maybe she didn't want him as much as he wanted her. He forced back the surge of despair. He tightened his grip and pulled her closer. "Damn it, Elena! You are killing me! Do you know that?"

"No, I don't," she said. "You reminded me that I'm your client, that's all. You are here as a favour to Stefan and Caroline. That you will be moving on after you have closed the case."

Comprehension hit him with visible force. His eyes narrowed.

"So that's it," he said. He moved his hands up to cup her face. "Let's get something straight here. The job is supposed to be short-term. I hope to hell it is because there's a killer running around. But I don't want us to be short-term. As far as I'm concerned, this is not a weekend hook-up."

The wave of relief that swept through her was so strong that she would have collapsed back into the chair if he had not been holding her. Don't get too excited, she warned herself. Just take it one day at a time.

She cleared her throat. "I wasn't quite sure what you meant. Things have been a little intense lately. In situations like this, emotions can get overheated. Judgment can be impaired. Intuition is unreliable."

"Is that right? You have had a lot of experience in situations like this?"

Her temper flared—much too quickly, she realized. Talk about overreacting.

"You know what I'm trying to say," she said. "We haven't really had a chance to get to know each other."

"Let's just say that I think there's something between us—an attraction—and I want to see how deep it goes."

"You want to see how deep it goes by marrying me?"

Damon couldn't think of an answer he could give her now that she would accept without either laughing in his face or getting furious. "Why don't we test it out now?"

He tightened his grip on her and drew her to him. She did not resist. Beneath the fabric of the black T–shirt, she felt sleek and warm and soft and like all that was feminine. Her scent clouded his senses, intoxicating and compelling.

"Damon..."

He kissed her before she could say further. It was a thoroughgoing kiss. He did not let up until she sighed and softened against him. He wrenched his mouth free from Elena's and kissed her throat. Her hands moved down from his neck and slipped up under his T–shirt. Her palms felt good on his chest, soft and very warm.

"You feel feverish," she said.

"No kidding. You are running a fever, too."

"Feels good." She had never felt more alive than she did right now.

"Yes," he said. "It does."

She pushed the T–shirt upward. He yanked the garment off over his head and tossed it aside. She kissed his shoulder, her mouth warm and damp. He took a step back and got rid of his pants and briefs. When he turned to her, she was smiling at him. He could already sense the intimate resonance pattern of their auras.

 _"Yes,"_ he said. "Damn right, it feels good."

He tugged off the T–shirt and denim she wore, scooped her up into his arms, walked towards the bedroom and fell with her onto the bed. He rolled onto his back, dragging her down across his chest. She made love to him there, raining spicy wet kisses from his throat to his belly, and then she ventured lower. He groaned when her fingers closed around him. When she took him into her mouth, he sucked in a sharp breath and sank his hands into the thick, tangled curls of her hair.

She used her tongue on him, and he thought he would go mad. When she pressed gently against the ultra-sensitive place directly behind his testicles, he knew he had reached his limit.

"My turn," he breathed.

He eased her onto her back and came down on top of her. She was as damp as he was, slick with perspiration. He kissed her firm, dainty breasts until she was arching against him and clutching at him. Satisfied, he worked his way slowly down her body, savouring the taste and scent of her.

When he reached the tight little furnace between her legs, she cried out and dug her nails into his shoulders. He sensed the gathering tension in her and stoked the fires until she was fierce and breathless. He gripped her sweet ass in both hands and anchored her so that she could not escape his mouth.

She came undone in a storm of energy that dazzled all of his senses.

"Damon. _Damon._ "

"Right here," he breathed.

He shifted position, holding his weight on his elbows. He captured her face between his hands and plunged his tongue into her mouth at the same time that he thrust deep into her still-clenching passage. The convulsions of her release pulled him over the edge within seconds.

He gave himself up to the rushing freedom of the climax with a hoarse, muffled groan of satisfaction that seemed to echo forever.

A long time later, Elena became aware of the weight of Damon's thigh on top of hers. His arm was flung across her breasts. She turned her head on the pillow and saw that his eyes were closed. He looked to be sound asleep. Cautiously, she tried to edge out from under his sprawling weight. He tightened his arm around her, trapping her, but he did not open his eyes.

"You are awake," she accused.

"I am now." Reluctantly, he rolled onto his back. "You know, we should do this more often."

"What? Meet a woman who never cares about me despite she gave birth to me but only cares about a weird stone?"

"Must you always focus on the negative? I was referring to the hot sex."

She smiled. "Oh, that."

He folded his arms behind his head. "Yeah, that."

She turned onto her stomach and levered herself up on her elbows. "Are you serious about this?"

"The sex?" He grinned at her. "I seriously think we should do this more often."

"Not the sex." She paused. "The marriage."

He looked at her. "Never been more serious in my life."

She hesitated. "But marriage is a big commitment. It is a life-long commitment."

"I know."

"It's a big step for us. Are you sure you are ready for it?" She sounded uncertain. "I mean, why marriage at this point? You and I hardly know each other."

He covered her mouth with his fingertips, silencing her.

"Whatever you do," he growled, "don't tell me we are strangers. That's the one thing I do not want to hear. Are we clear on that?"

She hesitated and then nodded once.

He took his hand off her mouth and traced the outline of her lips with one finger. "This bone-deep sense of connection that I feel when I'm with you… I haven't felt anything quite like that before."

Her lips parted on a soundless exclamation. "Neither have I," she whispered. "But we are talking about marriage here, Damon. I'm not sure…"

"It's okay." He stroked the wings of her hair back behind her ears. "I think you need some time to process this."

"I think you are right. I feel like I have been on a roller coaster in the past few days."

"You are not the only one," he said getting up from the bed. "Alaric hasn't come back yet since last night." He pulled on his pants and his T-shirt. "I hope he is alright."

Elena sat bolt upright. "Do you think Isobel will hurt him?"

"I hope not but I'm going to make some phone calls," he said. Just then his phone rang. He glanced at the coded number and took the call.

"What have you got for me, Alaric?" he said.

"I'm with Isobel," Alaric said.

"Good to know." Damon glanced at Elena. "How is she doing?"

Elena went still as she listened to the conversation.

"She was a little weak after she took the blow from you but she is better now."

"I'm glad she is still alive."

"We are just around the corner," Alaric said. "We will be back in the apartment in ten minutes."

"It's time we sit down and have a talk." He looked at Elena again. "Serious talk."

x x x

Elena watched Damon picked up the coffee pot and moved to the sink to fill the pot with water. Alaric and Isobel were sitting on the stools across the counter. She glanced towards Isobel, her birth mother she had only met briefly last night. A chaotic mix of anticipation, anxiety, longing and uncertainty churned her insides to such an extent that she could not drink the orange juice she had taken from the refrigerator.

"Why don't you tell us about yourself, Isobel?" Damon asked. "Spare me from asking you questions."

Isobel rested her elbows on the counter. "I was raised in a small town near Mystic Falls and spent much time there when I was young because of my best friend Trudie Peterson," she said. "Trudie told me about the story of the Destiny Stone and the rivals between Joseph Salvatore and Jacob Lockwood. I was fascinated by the supernatural stuff and I started doing research on it."

"When did you find out about your talent?" Damon asked as he put the pot on the hot plate and dropped the pre-measured bag of coffee into the machine. He flipped the switch on the coffeemaker.

"I found out about my talent when I was sixteen." Isobel paused. "It was on my sixteen birthday I realised that I could read someone's thoughts. I was thrilled initially because of my talent."

Elena couldn't think of anything intelligent to say. "Did your parents know about your talent?"

Isobel looked at her. "My parents - your grandparents were conventional, straitlaced, and old-fashioned. They didn't believe in paranormal. They completely freaked out when I told them about my talent."

Elena thought about Caroline's relationship with Liz Forbes. "It is hard for parents to accept the fact that their child is a psychic."

"What happened next?" Alaric asked. "How did you end up in New York?"

"My parents believed that I was sick and the doctors wanted to lock me up. I had to run away and I came to Mystic Falls to look for Trudie." Isobel took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "But I met someone who changed my life forever."

"Who was that?" Alaric asked curiously.

"He was very curious about paranormal, just like me," Isobel replied. "We did more extensive research together, particularly on the Destiny Stone. He also helped me to deal with my talent. We became very close. Although he ended up falling in love with me, I did not reciprocate his feelings. I treated him as my brother. But we made a mistake. We slept together one night and I ended up pregnant."

Elena caught her breath. "He was my father." Her anxious eyes searched Isobel's. "Who was my father? Where is he now?"

Isobel looked at her again. "Your father was John Gilbert."

Elena gave a start. Orange juice sloshed over the side of the glass, wetting her fingers. "John?"

"Who is John Gilbert?" Alaric asked.

"John Gilbert was Grayson's brother," Isobel said. "John and I decided to give up Elena because we knew she would have a better life with Grayson and his wife, Miranda. We were both too young to look after a child."

Elena's eyes widened. "Oh, my god." Damon reached out and held her in his arms. She realised she was trembling. "John Gilbert was my biological father."

There was a brief silence before Isobel continued to speak.

"We continued our research on the paranormal stuffs. John was very obsessed about the Destiny Stone and eventually he found out I could be the key to tap the energy of the stone." Isobel shuddered. "He wanted to run an experiment on me."

"Bastard." Rage ripped through Alaric.

"I was terrified and I was furious and I was desperate. I fought with everything I had, and I discovered that I had more weapons than I knew I possessed."

"You used your talent to defend yourself?" Damon asked.

"That was when I realised I could control people's mind and put people into hallucination," Isobel said quietly. "I can make the experience very . . . unpleasant if I want."

"What happened that day when John tried to run his experiment on you?" Alaric asked.

"I sent him to a terrible hallucination. He went crazy and started running," Isobel said.

"John was knocked down by a car," Elena said shakily. "Nobody knew why he ran himself in front of a car…Oh, my God!" She wrapped her arms around her midsection and hugged herself tightly. "I can't believe this!"

Damon tangled his fingers in her hair. "It's okay, darling. I'm here," he murmured. He sensed her small shudder and his hand tightened reassuringly in her hair.

Isobel grimaced. "I didn't mean to hurt John. My talent was still developing and I was still learning to cope with it. There was nothing I could do to help him."

Alaric patted Isobel's shoulder. "It's not your fault. It was part of your self-defence. He was trying to harm you."

Isobel watched him very intently. "It doesn't bother you I sent a guy into some sort of visual hallucination which led to his ultimate death?"

"We have all got baggage," Alaric said. "You left Mystic Falls and went to New York after John died?"

"I was afraid. I didn't know what to do," Isobel said. "I thought I could lead a normal life again if I stayed away from Mystic Falls." She looked at Alaric again. "Then I met you in New York. It was the best time in my life. I was happy."

"Then why did you file for divorce?" Alaric asked, frowning. "Why did you leave?"

"I found out you got a job at the Salvatore Research Laboratory," Isobel said as she glanced at Damon. "Given what I knew about the Salvatore's history, I was afraid someone might eventually track me down. I had to leave."

"But you came back to Mystic Falls," Damon said. "You found out Jo had the Destiny Stone."

"I know Jo had been helping Elena to look for me all these years," Isobel continued softly, "but I couldn't risk coming back to Mystic Falls. And it would be better if Elena doesn't know who her birth mother is."

Elena spoke up. "Why? Because you didn't want me to find out my birth mother was the one who killed my biological father?"

Isobel closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Elena."

Elena shook her head, annoyed with the woman who was her birth mother. "You ran away from all the problems. Is that how you deal with your problems? By running away?"

Isobel read the cold dismissal in her eyes and sighed. "Elena, I never meant to hurt anyone. Please believe me."

"Why do you want the Destiny Stone, Isobel?" Damon demanded softly.

Isobel looked at Damon and then back at Alaric. "It was simple enough. I have to protect myself."

"Protect yourself!" Elena hissed.

Damon felt murderous but he held on to his temper. It was the only way he could get the whole story, "Let's have it, Isobel."

"Very well. You have a right to know," Isobel said. "I received an anonymous email a year ago. I was using a different identity since I left New York. Someone tried to blackmail me."

"Shit," Alaric growled. "Who?"

"Someone who wants the Destiny Stone," Damon said.

"Someone knows about my relationship with John and my talent, and he knows I could tap the energy of the Destiny Stone. I was told I had to come up with the stone or my story will be sent to the papers. You know what would happen if my past became an issue in the media."

"That would not be good," Damon said. "You would make yourself a target for some dangerous people who are interested in the Destiny Stone if the media knows about your talent."

Elena shivered again under Damon's hand. "Who is after the Destiny Stone?"

Isobel shook her head. "I don't know. I don't know a whole lot more than what I just told you. But a few months ago the word on the street was someone bought a paranormal gemstone online."

"It was Jo," Elena whispered.

"Where did you hear the rumours of the stone?" Damon asked.

"The rumours cropped up in the usual places online. There are chat rooms where collectors and dealers exchange gossip and leads," Isobel explained. "That's how I managed to track down it was Jo Parker who bought the stone."

"And you went back to Mystic Falls because you wanted to get hold of the stone," Alaric said.

Isobel nodded. "I can't let someone ruin my life and put me in danger. Figured if I got to the stone first I could make a deal with him."

Alaric raised his brows. "A deal?"

"In exchange for the stone, he promises not to let the media or anyone knows about me or my talent."

"And you believe him?" Alaric growled.

"I have no choice," Isobel said uneasily. "What am I supposed to do? I'm not letting anyone running experiments on me. I have to look out for myself."

"Did you kill Jo?" Elena demanded between set teeth. "Tell me. Did you kill Jo?"

Isobel lifted startled eyes to hers. "No, I didn't. Jo was already dead when I came back to Mystic Falls. I didn't kill her."

"I don't think Jo was killed by Isobel," Damon said as he switched his gaze to Isobel. "I believe you. You only searched her place looking for the stone."

"Yes," Isobel said in a dreary, defeated voice. "But I didn't find it."

"Damn it, who killed Jo?" Alaric muttered. "Do you think it was the same person who blackmailed Isobel?"

"There are some real sharks out there," Damon announced grimly. "Some real dangerous sharks."


	10. Chapter 10

The lingering light was obliterated by the rapidly falling night. The once salmon and purple sky transformed into a vast expanse of jet-black that engulfed the town. Damon was standing at the window, contemplating the darkness. Something inside him tightened a little after Isobel told them about the blackmail. He had been running in a state of heightened awareness since he found out Jo had the Destiny Stone. He couldn't let down his guard, not for a while.

He heard the crunch of shoe leather on the wooden floor, but he did not turn around. He recognized Elena's stride.

She came to stand beside him and looked out at the window. "Something on your mind?" she asked.

He looked at her. "I have a few thoughts about Jo's killer."

Excitement illuminated her eyes. "Do you know who the killer is?"

"I know him, Elena. Not his name and identity – not yet – but I know him and why he is killing."

"What do you mean?"

"We have been working on the assumption that we are dealing with someone who killed Jo because of the Destiny Stone. But that's not what's going on here."

"Then why did he kill Jo?" Elena's expression sharpening. "Why did he kill Jo if he wasn't after the Destiny Stone?"

"The way he got rid of Jo Parker feels like the work of someone who is cleaning up," Damon said. "It explains the controlled energy I picked up at the scenes. Some powerful talents get an adrenaline rush when they take out the target, but they know how to handle it. They are crazy in their own way, but they leave a different calling card."

Elena shivered. "A powerful talent who can kill without a trace. This is scary."

"But he doesn't want people to know his talent," Damon said.

She glanced at him. "What?"

"He had to kill because he had no choice. Jo knew way too much about him. He had to get rid of her before someone talked to her."

"Okay, slow down," Elena said. "You are telling me that Jo found out a secret of a talent and that's why he murdered her."

"Yes," Damon said. "Obviously Jo had found a big, dark secret of him and he had to get rid of her."

"You didn't think he is after the Destiny Stone?"

Damon shook his head. "No, I don't think so. With his talent, if he had come after the Destiny Stone he would have been successful."

"If your assumption is right, he will probably leave town now that he's covered his tracks. Maybe he's already gone."

Damon contemplated the darkness, thinking about what he had learned at the death scenes. "I don't think so. He will leave eventually once the heat has died down, but he would prefer not to disappear while we are here, not unless he feels he has no other option."

"Why not?"

"Mystic Falls is one very small town. If the killer is living here as a pillar of the community, so to speak, and he suddenly vanishes, everyone, including Sheriff Forbes, will notice. Questions will be asked. He would be smart enough to avoid that, if possible." Damon shook his head, rerunning the insights he'd gleaned at the kill sites. "No, he's hoping that with Jo dead, we will hit a brick wall."

"What about the blackmailer?" Elena asked. "Do you think the blackmailer is related to the killer?"

"The blackmailer is after the Destiny Stone. He is not responsible for Jo's death."

"Are you sure?"

"The Destiny Stone is worth a fortune. There are some crazy businessmen who are keen to get their hands on the stone."

"Right." Elena looked at him. "You sound like you have a clue on the identity of Isobel's blackmailer."

"Probably. Salvatore, Inc. does have some competitors," Damon explained. "My grandfather had built a business empire founded on rare earths and valuable gemstones. He had interests in every region of the globe. When my father took over as president and CEO of Salvatore, Inc., he did high-level deals in cosmopolitan European capitals and in hardscrabble mining camps on every continent. He had connections that stretched from Wall Street and Washington, D.C., to the farthest corners of the planet."

"Your family has been looking for the Destiny Stone because of Joseph Salvatore's history."

"Yes, because we know it would be dangerous if the stone falls onto some crazy people's hand."

"So, who do you think is trying to blackmail Isobel?"

"Got a feeling it could be Logan Fell."

Elena's eyes widened. "Logan Fell? He is one of the members of the Founding Families."

"Joseph Salvatore, Jacob Lockwood and Thomas Fell were all obsessed with the paranormal stuff."

"But I haven't heard anyone from the Fell family being a talent."

"There is no talent in the Fell family. Thomas Fell was very curious in the paranormal stuff and dedicated his life into paranormal research. And Dad and Logan Fell have been feuding for years."

"How did the feud start?"

"Logan Fell, the owner of Fell Stone, had achieved the status of legend, not only in the family but in the global gemstone business. But who would guess that the origin of the feud was because of a woman?"

She raised her brows. "A woman?"

"Hmm, hmm."

"How did you know about the feud?" she asked curiously.

"I overheard Mum and Dad's conversation one day. Logan Fell wanted my mother."

She blinked. "Oh."

"Logan Fell and Dad were best friends since childhood. Both of them fell in love with Mum. Logan Fell thinks that Dad has stolen Mum from him."

"Their friendship fell apart because of a woman."

He looked at her. "Doesn't it always come down to the love of a woman?"

"Right," Elena said. "What are we going to do with Logan Fell?"

"Alaric and Isobel will take the stone back to the Salvatore Research Laboratory. Isobel will be safe in the Salvatore Research Laboratory."

"What if Logan Fell threatens to expose Isobel's talent to the media?"

"He won't do that," Damon said. "If he exposes Isobel's talent, there will be more people coming after the stone. We will deal with Logan Fell after we have dealt with Jo's killer."

"In that case, what do we do next?" Elena asked.

"We have to go back to Mystic Falls," Damon said.

x x x

Isobel stood with Elena near the front of the white Chevrolet Tahoe. The rear door of the vehicle was open. Damon and Alaric were back there, talking quietly, as they secured the steel box containing the Destiny Stone.

"I know it's none of my business, but I couldn't help but notice that you and Salvatore are sleeping in the same room," Isobel said. "How long have you two been together?"

"We aren't dating, if this is what you are asking." Elena handed Isobel a lunch box. "And you are right, it's none of your business. Here you go, road food and coffee."

"Thanks." Isobel took the sack from her. "I appreciate this. I'll be lucky if Alaric allows a pit stop along the way. For sure, there won't be any restaurant breaks. He is obsessed with this damn stone."

"Alaric knows what he is doing. The faster he gets the stone back to the Salvatore Research Laboratory, the safer everyone will be."

Isobel looked at her. "I'm sorry, Elena." She paused. "About Jo."

"Damon and I will find the killer." Elena stopped talking.

Isobel waited, not sure how to proceed. So much for the motherly pep talk.

Elena turned her attention back to Damon. "Damon and I will go back to Mystic Falls. I trust Damon. I'm sure he will find out the truth."

"Good," Isobel said. "That's good. I know Salvatore is good…"

"Start calling him Damon."

"Alright." Isobel conceded. "Damon. He is good, isn't he?"

Elena smiled. "Yes, he is."

"You love him," Isobel said quietly.

Elena felt heat rising in her cheek. "Well, we are partners."

Isobel narrowed her eyes. "Partners? Partners who sleep together?"

Elena blushed to the roots of her hair. "I…I mean…"

Isobel laughed softly. "I have seen the way you look at him and the way he looks at you."

Elena's heart skipped a beat at the way Isobel had said about the way Damon looked at her. "How did he look at me?"

"He loves you, Elena," Isobel told her. "Damon is in love with you."

She caught her breath. "It's too soon to know." She knew there was attraction between them but it had been hard trying to guess Damon's true feelings for her. "I really don't think this is the right time to talk about this sort of thing."

Isobel looked at her. Obviously these two young people were still trying to second-guess each other's true feelings.

"You right. I'm probably not the right person to give advice on relationships given my past relationships don't go well." Isobel paused. "I'm sorry."

Elena frowned. "For what?"

"Everything. I'm sorry about everything…I was young when I gave birth to you and I thought I was doing the best for you by giving you up."

A long moment of silence yawned between them.

"You were too young to look after a child," Elena said eventually. "And you had too much going on in your life at that time."

"Are you willing to forgive me?" Isobel asked timidly.

"Let's say I understand your circumstances at that time…" Elena allowed her voice to trail off as she shrugged.

"Elena, I want you to know that I did regret giving up my baby…" A silvery moisture appeared in Isobel's eyes. "I really did."

A spasm of sympathy crossed Elena's face before she composed herself. "We can discuss this later. Right now we have more important things to deal with."

"Yes." Isobel smiled a little through the dampness. "We have a lot to talk about." She touched Elena's arm gently and whispered achingly, "Could you possibly find it in your heart to put the past behind you?"

Elena looked at Isobel. Deep inside her heart, she thought that nothing Isobel Fleming did, could begin to atone for what she had done to her, let alone make Elena regard the woman as her mother. She considered telling Isobel that, but as she gazed into Isobel's shimmering green eyes, she couldn't quite make herself say that. "I could try," she said. "But I'm going to need a lot of time."

Isobel smiled. "Of course."

At the other end of the SUV, Damon and Alaric broke off their conversation to look at Isobel and Elena. Alaric smiled as if seeing Isobel smiled pleased him. Damon squinted a little against the sun and nodded once, to himself, as if whatever he had seen satisfied him.

"You aren't going to let her go this time, are you?" Damon asked. He was watching Isobel.

"Hmm."

"You once told me when I find the right one, I'd better grab her with both hands and never let her go. Are you going to let Isobel go away again?"

Alaric thought about it. "I know what you mean, Damon. But things are sort of complicated now."

"How complicated?" Damon asked. "You care about her and I think she still feels something for you."

"Yes, I know" Alaric said. "But that's not the hardest part."

"What is the hardest part?"

"Her focus at the moment may not be our relationship," Alaric said as he glanced at Elena.

Now, at last, I understand, Damon thought. "Maybe you can help her to put the past behind her. She will be very grateful to know you are there to support her."

"I will certainly try," Alaric said. "So, you and Elena."

Damon raised his brows. "What about me and Elena?"

"You are going to marry her, then?" Alaric looked at Damon. "I can tell you are serious about this one."

"Can't live without her." Damon looked at Elena. A brief memory of their first meeting in Chicago flitted through his mind. He remembered the first time he had touched Elena's lovely breasts, the enthralling way she had caught her breath and clung to him as the gentle convulsions of her orgasm shook her. He smiled to himself.

"When's the wedding?" Alaric asked.

"As soon as she said yes."

"You haven't asked her yet?" Alaric looked at him with disbelief. "Why not?"

"I did but right now we have some important things to deal with," Damon said as he glanced at his watch. "You better leave now."

"Time to hit the road, Isobel," Alaric said. He yanked open the passenger-side door. "I will drive."

Elena stood with Damon and watched the big Chevrolet Tahoe pulled out of the parking lot of the apartment. She waved one last time to Isobel and then turned to go back into the building.

"What's next on our agenda?" she asked.

"Next, we start talking to the people who were most closely acquainted with Jo," Damon said. "Got some names?"

"Not a lot, but there is one person who is at the top of the list. April Young. I'm not saying she and Jo were close, but they worked together on the paranormal research, and in some sort of way, I think they understood each other."

"In that case, we will start with April."

x x x

Damon brought the SUV to a halt in front of a house. He cracked open his door and climbed out from behind the wheel. Elena opened her own door and jumped down to the ground.

"This is where April Young lives?" Damon studied the double-storey brick house. "How well do you know her?"

"She used to work as Jo's assistant." Elena started forward. "I had met her a few times throughout the years. But the last I heard she had gotten a job at Mystic Falls High School."

Damon narrowed his eyes. "What is she doing at the High School?"

"April has a PhD in chemistry and she is particularly interested in earth ores and gemstones."

"I see. Some sort of stones Wikipedia."

Then he paused. Small shards of ice touched the back of Damon's neck. He jacked his senses a little and looked around, trying to decide what it was about the scene that was bothering him.

"Wait," he said, making it an order.

Elena stopped and looked back at him. "What is it?"

"Looks like the front door is unlocked."

"That's impossible." She took a closer look. "Good grief, you are right."

Damon went back to the SUV, opened the cargo-bay door and unzipped his duffel bag. He took out the small pistol, shut the door and went back to the gate.

"Are you sure you need to use a gun?" Elena sounded shocked.

"This is precaution measure. You never know when you will need it."

He gave the door a cautious shove. It swung open easily enough. He walked into the house. Elena followed quickly.

"Something is wrong," Elena said.

"Yes," Damon said. "This isn't good."

"You can tell things like that?"

"I have got pretty good intuition when it comes to this kind of stuff."

Damon took a few more steps. An all-too-familiar miasma iced his senses. He knew that Elena felt it, too. But, then, most people, psychic or otherwise, could sense death when it was close by.

"Dear heaven," she whispered. "Not April, please."

Damon went along the small front hall. The house felt empty and filled with the silence of the dead. There was no other sensation like it. He heard Elena behind him.

The place looked like a library. The only things April Young had ever hoarded were books. There were thousands of them on the floor–to–ceiling shelves. Hundreds more were stacked on the floor.

"This isn't good," Damon whispered gently.

He turned the corner at the end of a row of shelving and stopped at the sight of the crumpled form sprawled on the floor.

"April," Elena said.

She said the name with grim resignation. She had known this was coming, Damon thought.

She slipped past him and hurried to the end of the aisle to crouch beside the body.

Elena touched the dead woman's throat. Damon knew there would be no pulse. He was sure that Elena knew that, too.

She drew her fingertips away and looked up at him. There was a forlorn sadness in her eyes that he knew he would not soon forget. He walked to the body and hunkered down beside it.

"We are too late," he said quietly.

"There's no blood," Elena said. "I don't see any wounds."

"The authorities will conclude that the death was due to natural causes, but you know as well as I do that is probably not what happened here."

"Why April?" she asked.

"Obviously, she knew something Jo Parker knew," Damon said. "After the killer got rid of Jo, he had to get rid of April, as well."

He turned April face up. The body was surprisingly heavy. _They always are_ , he reflected. There was a reason the term _dead weight_ had been coined a long time ago.

Damon was pretty sure that April Young had once been a beauty with long dark brown hair and high cheek bones. She was dressed in a silk robe and pyjamas.

"She heard an intruder during the night," Damon said. "Came out of the bedroom to see what was going on."

"Someone was waiting for her here." Elena rose and looked around. "The killer was waiting for her."

He got to his feet. "This was death by paranormal means. Not many people could kill this way. It almost always involves physical contact."

"Are you certain?"

"This is the kind of crime I investigate for that private contractor I told you about. No, I can't be absolutely certain yet, but death by paranormal means is my working theory until proven otherwise. A heart attack would be way too much of a coincidence."

Elena took a deep, shuddering breath. "Jo was the first and now April. How many people need to die before this will come to an end?"

"Someone wants to make sure his secrets are not exposed." Damon said. For the first time, he noticed that his ring was hot.

"Damn."

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," he said. "But there seem to be some serious energy here."

"What are we going to do?"

Then they heard the front door slammed shut. Damon came toward Elena. He was moving very fast.

All the windows were being slammed shunt by themselves. Instantly the house was plunged into a deeper shadow.

"Run," he said, his voice low and fierce with command. "It's a trap."

The sense of rising energy was thick in the air just as they reached the living room. A paranormal storm exploded around them. The path to the front door was blocked by a cascade of searing energy.

"There are plenty of tools around here," Elena said. "We can break down the door."

"We don't have time," Damon said. "This place is going to blow in a few seconds."

"What about the windows? We can break the glass."

"The energy storm is blocking every route out of the house. We are going to have to run through it."

"Are you sure?"

"We have got a better chance of getting out of here if we maintain physical contact," Damon said.

"All right," she said. "Whatever you say."

She reached down to grasp Damon's hand.

"Whatever you do, don't let go," Damon said.

The energy was growing hotter and more intense by the second.

But now there was another kind of fire igniting the atmosphere of the small space around the two of them. Elena realized that the fresh tide of energy came from the stone in Damon's ring.

The counter-current of psi flooded the atmosphere. The furniture in the house trembled and shook violently in response. Elena heard glass and crystal fracture.

"I can dampen the wavelengths in a narrow space around us," Damon said. "But not for long. Let's go."

Together they rushed towards the front door. Damon's ring burned with astonishing energy. Elena sensed the raw power that Damon was controlling and knew that such an extraordinary expenditure of psychic power would exact a cost later. At the very least, Damon would be exhausted.

They made it through the door. The psi energy somehow made the door opened by itself. Both of them dashed across the porch, and then they were out in the driveway of the house. The explosion came seconds later. The currents of paranormal energy generated swept outward like tentacles seeking to draw the intended prey back into the house.

There was a low, heavy whoosh followed by a great roar. Elena looked over her shoulder and saw that the house was on fire.

Damon turned his head to look. "Damn it to hell and back. It looks like we have underestimated the killer."

"I don't understand." Elena stared at the blaze, her heart pounding. "There was no fire, just a lot of paranormal energy. How could it explode like that?"

"Obviously, the killer knew that we will look for April. He killed her with paranormal means and if he gets enough psi burning in a confined space, it can explode across the spectrum into the normal range."

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "I can't believe the killer was trying to kill us as well."

"Funny. I have no trouble believing it at all." Damon unclipped his cell phone. "The sheriff is not going to like this."

"How are we going to explain it to her?"

"No problem," Damon said.

Elena blinked. "Really?"

Damon's mouth twisted humourlessly. "The thing about paranormal events is that if you think about it, you can usually come up with a perfectly logical, perfectly normal explanation."

"Is that so?"

"In my experience," he said, punching in the emergency number, "no one ever wants the truth, anyway."

x x x

"You are sure that both of you are okay?" Caroline asked for the third or fourth time.

Elena looked at the phone sitting on the kitchen table. Damon had hit speaker mode and delivered the report of the explosion as if it were no more eventful than a blip in the stock market. When he had finished, he had dropped himself onto a chair at the kitchen table in the big, old-fashioned kitchen, listening to the conversation between the two women. There was a bottle of generic red from the Mystic Falls General Store and the remains of a takeout pizza on the table between them.

"Depends on your definition of okay," Elena said. "I'm a little shaken up, to say the least, but otherwise we are not injured if it is what you are worried about."

"A trap definitely comes under the heading of unexpected," Stefan said. "You are sure the explosion was due to psi energy, Damon?"

Damon leaned forward, his elbows on the table and looked at the phone. "The house was hot. Psi-hot."

"What did the sheriff say?" Stefan asked. "Did she believe your story?"

"A gas explosion," Elena said as she looked at Damon. She smiled, coolly appreciative. "You know, that actually sounded like a very plausible explanation."

"Thanks," Damon said. For some reason—probably because he was still in the post-burn buzz—he liked that she was impressed with how smoothly he had pulled a rabbit out of a hat for Liz Forbes. "Got to admit, I've had practice."

"But did she really believe you, Elena?" Caroline asked again. "You know how my mum reacts to paranormal stuffs."

"The explosion is still under investigation, but there isn't much left to investigate," Damon said. "Pretty sure it's going to be classified as a suspicious fire, but that will be the end of it."

"What about April Young's death?" Caroline asked, indignant. "Surely my mum would look into her death."

"At this stage the sheriff believed that April was killed in the gas explosion," Elena answered.

"Did you manage to get what I want, brother?" Damon asked.

"You are right. The Mikaelson isn't involved," Stefan said. "Mystic Falls is a small town. If one of the Mikaelson had come here to get the stone, they would have found it and taken it."

"I know I'm right," Damon said. "I very much doubt that Jo and April were murdered by outsiders. This was local and it was personal. And I'm pretty sure we are dealing with a powerful and dangerous talent here."

There was a short silence on the other end of the connection. Elena got a mental image of Stefan and Caroline exchanging glances.

"Elena, you and Damon need to leave Mystic Falls," Caroline said.

"We can't leave," Elena said. "Not until we figure out what is going on here."

"Elena, it's not safe there," Caroline said. Her voice was very tight now.

"I know it sounds a little counterintuitive," Damon said. "But I think we may be relatively safer here than we would be in some other place. At least for now. Whoever was responsible for the explosion had a very close call today. He will be very careful for a while."

"He will be looking for another opportunity," Stefan warned. "I think he is focused on you, Damon. Probably views Elena as collateral damage."

"Any other leads on your end?" Damon asked. "Have you checked on Logan Fell?"

"Words on the street are that there is someone looking for the Destiny Stone," Stefan said. "Someone is offering a lot of money to get the Destiny Stone."

"That will be Logan Fell. He probably realised he couldn't blackmail Isobel anymore," Damon said. "By the way, how's Alaric and Isobel?"

"They arrived late last night. He and I had taken the stone back to the vault in the laboratory this morning," Stefan said. "Isobel is staying with Caroline at the moment."

"She is worried about you, Elena," Caroline said.

Damon glanced at Elena but she said nothing.

"Tell Alaric and Isobel that we are okay. Talk to me when you have something, anything."

"Sure," Stefan said.

Damon hit end call. He clipped the phone to his belt. Elena drummed her fingers on the table.

He finally noticed her forehead creased in a trouble frown.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"He was trying to look for something."

"What?" he asked, genuinely bewildered.

"I read his mind that night when he killed Jo," Elena said. "He was looking for something in the basement."

"Jo's files."

"Are you sure?"

"That's my best guess," Damon said. "He had to get rid of Jo because Jo knew his secrets. If I were the killer, it might occur to me that Jo might be keeping some information and the best source of leads would be Jo's files."

Elena raised her brows. "It might occur to you?"

He winced. "Sorry about that. I have been thinking like the bad guys for a while now. Over time it becomes a habit."

"No need to apologize," she said briskly. "You aren't really thinking like the bad guys when you try to get inside their heads."

"No?" He sounded amused.

"No. You are thinking like a good investigator. You are doing what you were born to do—hunt bad guys."

"Thanks. I will cling to that theory. And April being Jo's assistant might also have the information. How did you meet Jo?"

"I have told you Jo was one of the counsellors when I was at the Mystic Falls Academy."

Damon contemplated her words. "What if the killer was also one of the students at the Mystic Falls Academy?"

Elena's eyes widened. "That's why Jo knew about his talent."

"But he doesn't want his secrets to be exposed. He has to clean up his past."

"I see where you're going here." Elena took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Jo had her own counselling records from the time she worked at the Mystic Falls Academy. They were stored in her basement. Her files would provide a nice, neatly categorized list of people with talents."

"April was Jo's assistant at that time. She might have known the killer as well."

Elena shuddered. "Do you think he will continue to kill in order to clean up his past?"

"He's not going to get the chance to do that because we are going to stop him," Damon said.

"Do you really think we can do that?"

"Yes," he said. "I really think we can do it. And soon."

"It wouldn't be all that easy, you know," she said.

Damon looked at her. "You are talking about Jo's files?"

"I'm talking about the killer. If he is also a talent from the Mystic Falls Academy, then it won't be easy to track him down. I told you that the one thing most of us learned was how to keep a low profile and pass for normal. The truly dangerous talents really excelled when it came to learning those lessons. But there were also the students who were overwhelmed by the onset of their abilities or too fragile psychologically to handle them. Some of them ended up in institutions. Some ended up on the streets. Some simply disappeared."

"We will find him, Elena." He reassured her. "Trust me."

They drank some wine in silence. After a while, Elena lowered her glass.

"How are you feeling?"

"I will be fine." He lowered the glass. "It isn't the first time. I have been there before."

"You had a very deep burn." Elena looked worried. "This looks more serious than what Isobel had done to you."

"I will survive as long as you are willing to help me."

"What can I do to help you?"

"I want you in bed tonight. With me," he answered bluntly. He got to his feet, made his way around the table and hauled her up out of the chair. "I want you."

Her cheeks flushed and her body was way too warm. Hot, actually. Extremely hot. "Damon!"

"I want you badly," he told her in a seductive, low whisper, his hands framing her face between his palms. "Kiss me. Now."

Elena looked up into his glowing eyes. Oh hell, she loved this man in front of her, so she did what a woman in love would do.

She kissed him and she sensed the passion unfurling between them. He kissed her until she shimmered with need, until she trembled with it; until she could no longer even think that they were in the kitchen.

He captured her face between his hands.

"You and I belong together," he said. "If you try to leave, I will come after you. Never forget that. And I will find you."

She went very still, her fingers clenched around his shoulders. She could not identify the tangle of emotions cascading through her. Fear? Hope? Love?

"What makes you so certain that you could find me?" she asked.

It wasn't a challenge. It was a question, an urgent one. She needed an answer badly.

"Because you and I are linked," he said. "Don't try to tell me that you don't sense the bond between us."

He covered her mouth with his own again, not waiting for an answer. Her hands tightened on him. With a small, urgent little cry, she kissed him back, holding him captive, just as he held her.

Somehow they ended up on the sofa. He eased her onto her back. In the short time they had been together, he had learned a lot about what made her hot in bed and he applied the knowledge ruthlessly. The energy of passion—light and dark—flared high.

But the bond worked both ways. She knew him now as well as he knew her and she was just as ruthless.

He took her nipple between his teeth and tugged gently. She caught her breath as the delicious tension built swiftly.

"Tell me you feel it," he said against her breast. "Tell me I'm not alone here."

She lifted her hips against his hardened body and clung to him, glorying in the powerfully muscled contours of his back. "Are you sure you don't read minds?" she whispered.

"Not possible." He moved down her body, dropping hot, wet kisses on her belly. "You are the one who read minds."

He went lower. The next thing she knew his mouth was on the inside of her thigh. A thrill went through her. She sank her fingers into his hair, trying to tug him back up along her body.

"Damon…"

"Tell me I'm not alone in this," he ordered softly.

Now his tongue was on her tight, exquisitely sensitive clitoris and she thought she would fly apart into a thousand glittering shards.

"Tell me," he repeated, sliding two fingers into her. He probed gently.

Outrageous excitement flashed through her senses. She couldn't stand this much longer, she thought. She couldn't tolerate another second of it.

"Yes. Yes, I feel it, too." She tightened her grip in his hair, abandoning herself to the intimate kiss.

An instant later her release swept through her and she came apart in his hands. Somewhere someone shrieked softly in the night. She realized vaguely that it was her own voice she heard.

Then he drove himself deep inside her. Her senses flared, fusing with his in the moment of release. And then they both fell off the edge of the world.


	11. Chapter 11

"What did you mean yesterday when you told Stefan that Jo's death was local and personal?" Elena asked. "You said the killer was also one of the students at the Mystic Falls Academy."

They were eating omelette and drinking coffee in Elena's kitchen. Elena was feeling surprisingly well rested. For his part, Damon showed no signs of exhaustion. He looked sated and satisfied. He also appeared energized.

"Look at this," Damon said as he held the tabloid-size paper towards her.

She raised her brows as she took the paper. "Mystic Falls Daily?"

"Read the headline."

Elena's gaze riveted on the lurid headline:

MAYOR LOCKWOOD AIM FOR US SENATE SEAT

She glanced through the article.

…Mayor Richard Lockwood and his family arrived at the annual Mystic Falls Community picnic with a basket of homemade chocolate cookies that brought raves from attendees. Mason Lockwood, brother of the mayor, as well as the campaign manager said the mayor had announced his intention to run for the U.S senate seat…

She put the paper down and looked at Damon. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"What if Jo found out that the mayor is a psychic?" Damon said. "Thing like that would have cost him the election."

"It would destroy his election's chances if the media knows that he is a talent like us."

Damon put down his fork. "Might have been worth murder to Richard Lockwood."

"Do you seriously think Richard Lockwood is the killer?"

"Remember I told you about the rivals between Joseph Salvatore and Jacob Lockwood?" He picked up his coffee. "Richard Lockwood is the direct descendant of Jacob Lockwood."

Her eyes widened. "Are you saying that Richard Lockwood has inherited the talent from Jacob Lockwood?"

He took a sip of his coffee. "It is a possibility. Jacob died in an explosion but he had a wife and two children. Nobody had heard anything about psychic abilities running in the Lockwood family after Jacob Lockwood died. But that didn't mean the direct descendants of Jacob weren't talents." He put down the coffee mug. "Almost all of the mayors of Mystic Falls are from the Lockwood family in the last fifty years. They are one of the most powerful and influencing Founding Families. If words get out that Richard Lockwood is a psychic, not only his election's chances would be destroyed, he would lose his position as the mayor too."

"Therefore, he had to get rid of Jo because Jo knew about his secrets?"

"There was no way to know how much Jo really knew or even if anyone would ever believe her if she did talk. But if it gets out that the wonderful mayor of Mystic Falls has a troubled past because he has paranormal powers, it could kill the whole of Lockwood family."

"Okay, I see the picture here," Elena said. "As far as the media and everyone in Mystic Falls are concerned, the Lockwoods are just one big happy family and Richard Lockwood holds the promise of a brilliant future in politics."

"He can't let the media knows his time in Mystic Falls Academy. First, he had to get rid of Jo. But you showed up. He knew right away that you thought Jo had been murdered."

"Because I was inside the building when Jo was murdered."

"Thus, he had to get rid of April because he knew you would talk to April eventually."

"He also had to find Jo's old Mystic Falls Academy files," Elena said.

"That's right. He can't let anyone get hold of the files."

Elena straightened in her chair. "Make sense to me. What do we do next?"

He hesitated. "Well, to be honest, I keep wondering what we can do even if we do come up with a really terrific scenario for the murder of Jo Parker. It's not like we can hope to find any proof. Regular cops and prosecutors don't think much of the woo-woo stuff."

"Sheriff Forbes may not buy into the paranormal, but she is not stupid." Elena sat forward, looking determined and eager. "I will tell you what we do. We blow the whole damn story wide open so there are no more secrets to be kept. I can pretty much guarantee that every paper in the state will start digging into Jo's death because it involves the future U.S Senator."

"You are right," Damon said. "we might not find hard proof, but the entire Lockwood camp will be on the defensive. Hell, the psychic rumours alone will be enough to keep them fully occupied."

"If we are right, we are talking about blowing apart the campaign of a candidate for the United States Senate. Lawsuits could be the least of our worries when this is over."

"We, the Salvatores never ever let the small stuff get in the way."

Elena nodded. "You have got a point there."

"The important thing is that we put a stop to whatever is going on around here."

x x x

Breaking news…Richard Lockwood, mayor of Mystic Falls and current candidate for the United States Senator probably attended Mystic Falls Academy. Mystic Falls Academy is a special school at Mystic Falls for troubled teens. It was rumours that the students at the Mystic Falls Academy have psychic abilities. The current principal of Mystic Falls Academy denied the rumours and said the school deals with difficult students.

Richard Lockwood's great ancestor, Jacob Lockwood was killed in an explosion four hundred years ago while attempting murder. There was speculation that he was a psychic and was completely delusional…

Elena looked away from the TV screen and turned her attention to Damon who was sitting beside her. "This will guarantee the media to start digging into Richard Lockwood's past."

"Yes, we might have stirred things up." Damon tapped his finger on his thigh. "But I wish we had a little more to go on here. We don't have any hard evidence."

"We have Jo's old Academy files."

He shook his head. "Her files will only prove that Richard was one of the students at the Mystic Falls Academy. We need more than that to take this to the police."

"What the heck are we supposed to do now?" she demanded. "You and I know that he killed Jo and April."

"Hmm."

There was a short silence.

"But at least we know who we are dealing with now," Damon said eventually. "We have scared the hell out of Richard Lockwood. Make sure he knows that if he makes one false move, a lot of folks will be watching. That should keep him in line."

Elena grunted. "The police will still not look into Jo's and April's deaths."

Damon looked at her. "For your information, I don't care whether the police will reopen the case or not."

"Why not?" she gaped at him.

"I only care about your safety. Your safety comes first."

Warmth and wonder sparkled through her. "Oh, Damon."

He massaged the back of his neck. "We have stirred things up a mite now. Richard Lockwood will get fired up about it."

"He will get fired up about it, all right," Elena said morosely. "Probably sue us."

"If he has killed two people to stop his secrets from leaking out, he's unlikely to stop now."

Elena shivered. "Are you worried that he will go after us?"

He sat forward and folded his arms on his knees. "Now he freaks because people are starting to talk about his past. He will stop at nothing to silence the rumours."

"I can call Sheriff Forbes and tell her what's going on. Maybe she will believe me and help us with the investigation."

"Maybe," Damon said thoughtfully. "But we can't sit around and wait for him to come after us."

Elena looked at him in alarm. "What are you going to do?"

"Now we wait until tomorrow night. Can't miss the annual Founder's Party."

"The Founder's Party?"

"Yes. The Founder's Party is going to be a lot more interesting than usual this year."

"Why?"

"Because the killer is going to pay the price for killing Jo and April."

x x x

"Are you sure you want to attend the Founder's Party?" Carol Lockwood asked. "Maybe we should skip this year's event."

"No," Richard Lockwood said. "The media will notice."

There was a raw edge in Travis's voice. For a moment, it almost sounded as if he didn't have any hope. But this was Richard Lockwood. He didn't give up easily. He cared too much about himself and his climb to the top.

"You will be in the spotlight if you turn up. The rumours…" Her voice trailed off.

Carol had spent the last year immersing herself in that role, and she knew that she had been brilliant. She had dedicated herself to her part because she had envisioned a glorious future as the wife of one of the most powerful men in the country. From that point on, doors would open. But the curtain had fallen on act one of the play.

"Richard is right," Mason Lockwood said from the bedroom doorway. "We can't miss the event tonight."

Carol turned towards Mason. "Are you sure? But the media…"

"The media frenzy will die down in a few weeks if not sooner," Mason said, looking eager and determined. "My people will see to it that the right impression of the candidate and his perfect family goes out into the world on all the social media platforms. The press releases are almost ready. By the end of the event Richard will have the traction he needs to go all the way to the U.S. Senate. Trust me. I was born to get my big brother elected."

"I agree with Mason." Richard turned toward the closet and selected a shirt. "If we skip the event tonight, there will be more questions and rumours. I won't let anyone destroy my future."

"Trust me, brother." Mason looked at Richard. "I won't let that happen."

x x x

The Mystic Falls town hall was ablaze with fiery grills. The Founder's Party was in full swing. The weather had cooperated, with clear sky and some light breeze in the evening.

Elena stood at the edge of the crowd, a glass of sparkling water in her hand, and tried to shake off the chill that was lifting the hairs on her neck. Everything looked normal. There was a line in front of the open bar set up under a large tent. Sheriff Forbes was mingling with the other members of the Founding Families. The sound of laughter and conversation rose up into the trees. Everything appeared as it should, except for one thing. A few minutes ago, Damon had disappeared.

Earlier that afternoon, Stefan and Caroline had come back to Mystic Falls to attend the event. Damon and Stefan had spent almost two hours in one of the guest rooms at the Gilbert's house talking about the Destiny Stone. Caroline was thrilled to spend some time with Elena, talking about her wedding plans. They even called Bonnie in Mexico and they chatted for almost half an hour before getting ready for the Founder's Party.

She took a sip of the sparkling water. She hadn't had anything stronger to drink all afternoon, even though she could have used something to calm her nerves. A strange darkness was gathering at the edges of her senses. Every time she tried to focus on it, the eerie shadows flickered out of sight. But the sense of wrongness was intensifying. The only thing she knew for certain was that it was linked to Damon. He had set his trap, and now he was waiting for the killer to walk into it.

She had assumed his plan would work. But now she was having doubts.

Caroline materialized out of the crowd. She had a glass of wine in one hand.

"I have been looking for you, Elena," she said. "Can't wait for the party to end. I can't wait to get out of here."

"Have you spoken to your mum?" Elena asked.

"Just briefly." Caroline took a sip of her wine. "But you know we never get along."

"Was everything okay?"

"Sure," Caroline said. "Just a little family chat. But at least she didn't decline to come to my wedding in Chicago."

"You are her daughter. She cares about you, no matter what happens."

"Yeah, I get that." Caroline rolled her eyes. "Family is still family, that's what you always say."

"You have no idea how much I miss my parents. I wish they are still around," Elena said quietly.

"You still have Isobel."

"Oh."

Caroline glanced at her. "Give her a chance, Elena. I can tell that she is sorry for what she had done."

She gave her best friend a fleeting smile. "I will try." She searched the crowd once more. There was still no sign of Damon.

"Don't worry, Damon will be fine," Caroline reassured her. "He has Stefan behind his back. Nothing will go wrong."

She exhaled slowly. "You are right."

"I will get another glass of wine. Do you want something?"

Elena shook her head. "No, thanks. I'm fine."

Caroline wandered off in the direction of the bar. Elena watched her go and then turned to search the crowd once more. Richard and Carol Lockwood were still mingling with the members of the Founding Families.

This was odd, she thought. If Richard was the killer, he would duck out long enough to find Jo's old Academy files. In a crowd of that size, he might not have been missed for a while.

There was something else that was bothering her now, as well. Mason Lockwood, the Lockwood campaign manager was nowhere to be found.

x x x

Damon waited until the darkest part of the night, and then he went in through the rear door of Jo Parker's building before going down to the basement. He was jacked. The gemstone in his ring glowed. It was just a matter of time. He had seen the killer make his way to the edge of the crowd. Sooner or later, he would show up in Jo's building.

The footsteps he had been waiting for echoed in the hallway at last, faint at first and then louder as they neared the stairs to the basement. There was a short pause.

There were footsteps down the stairs. A toxic mix of fear, panic and desperation burned in the atmosphere.

The intruder hesitated, then moved quickly into the basement. There was a sharp click. A penlight beam arced through the darkness and came to rest on the cabinet.

"You don't have to go through the cabinet, Mason," Damon said. "I have got what you are looking for here in my car."

Mason Lockwood froze. "Damon Salvatore."

"I had a feeling you would be the one who came here tonight, but I had to be sure."

"How did you know I was the one?"

"Because Richard didn't go to the Mystic Falls Academy. He was in the same class as my Uncle Zach at Mystic Falls High School."

There was stunned silence. A great calm descended on Mason. He watched Damon with psi-hot eyes. "How did you put it all together, Salvatore?"

"The old-fashioned way," Damon said. "I started connecting dots. Elena told me the one thing most of the talents learned at the Academy was how to keep a low profile and pass for normal. The truly dangerous talents really excelled when it came to learning those lessons. And you are one truly dangerous talent. You have been away from Mystic Falls for a long time until a year ago when Richard talked to you about his plans for office. You knew that as soon as Richard became a serious candidate, the media would start digging into his own family history. Your past might be the real problem for the campaign."

Mason snorted in disgust. "My brother made sure my legal file was sealed, but obviously Jo Parker was aware of my history."

"You killed her because she was one of the counsellors at the Academy when you were there."

"She knew too much about my past."

"You were a troubled talent when you were at the Academy. It was very difficult to control you. Jo knew you would be a danger if you help Richard to win the campaign. Richard will be a mere puppet in your hands."

"I'm good, very, very good," Mason retorted. "My brother relies on me to win the campaign. Without me, he won't stand a chance to win this election."

"You are sick and flat-out crazy."

"It was Elena's fault. If she didn't arrive that night, she wouldn't find the body," Mason gritted between his teeth. "But I was lucky because Sheriff Forbes didn't have any suspicion. She has never believed in paranormal stuffs. Nobody would believe what Elena said."

"Then I showed up."

"I knew you might be a problem, especially if you started asking questions. April Young was Jo's assistant at the Academy, so I had to get rid of her, hoping that would be the end of the matter. You two were lucky to escape the explosion but I figured all I had to do after that was wait, because you couldn't find any hard evidence. Sooner or later you and Elena would leave town and things would return to normal. But tonight, I realised you weren't going to give up and go away."

"You are not the only one who is worried about your past," Damon said. "Richard Lockwood is scared as hell."

Mason narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"He is concerned that his crazy brother might be the real problem for his campaign. He will get rid of you eventually."

"You are lying!" Mason roared. "He can't! He needs me!"

"It would be a huge relief for him to get rid of you because you are a walking time bomb."

"Shut up!" Mason yelled. "Nobody can stop me. Not Richard! Not you, Salvatore!"

Mason heightened his senses and sent out icy currents, but Damon was ready. He sent energy into his ring and got the response he was looking for. The gemstone burned with a searing radiance. The wavelengths collided with the icy currents and sent them rebounding back toward the point of origin.

Mason gasped when the paranormal currents of his own slammed into him. He reeled backward, but he did not go down.

"Bastard," he screamed as he pulled out a gun from his tuxedo.

"Drop your weapon, Mason!"

Mason looked up, startled. "What—?"

But the room was suddenly plunged into chaos as agents wearing police uniform exploded through the stairs.

In the next instant Mason was face down on the floor. Someone confiscated his gun.

Matt and Stefan emerged from the scene of controlled chaos, grinning.

"Get everything?" Stefan asked.

"Every word." Damon peeled off his jacket, reached inside his shirt, and took out the digital voice recorder. He handed the device to Matt. "It's all yours."

Mason looked up. He stared at the recorder and then he looked at Damon. "This is a trap! You son of a bitch!"

Damon looked at Stefan. "You think your recorder will still work because of the currents?"

Stefan grinned. "I have tested it out over and over again. Trust me, brother. This is a special voice recorder, paranormal means proved."

"You mean like water proved?" Damon sounded amused.

"Yes, like water proved," Stefan answered.

Elena appeared at the doorway when they came up from the basement. "Everything okay in here?"

Damon glanced down at his ring. The gemstone was no longer burning.

He looked at her. "It is now."

Elena studied him with keen interest. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" Damon asked.

"How did you know Mason Lockwood is a psychic and not Richard?"

"I saw a photograph of Richard and my Uncle Zach at the Mystic Falls High School senior prom," Damon said. "Mystic Falls Academy was not a normal high school. The students were all there because they were considered abnormal. And some of the kids were downright dangerous. The students wouldn't have been able to go off the grounds."

"How did you know that?" she asked. "I don't think I have told you about this."

"Stefan," Damon said. "Caroline told Stefan and you know my little brother," he chuckled softly. "He can't stop talking."

Elena glared at Damon. "I thought you were after Richard and I had been keeping an eye on him the entire night."

"Richard was trying to manipulate Mason into helping him with the campaign. Mason, on the other hand, thought he could control Richard."

She shuddered at the thought of it. "They are brothers. They shouldn't manipulate each other."

"Trust me, it's over now."

Elena scowled at him. "Why didn't you tell me that you suspected Mason was the one who would walk into your trap? You could be in danger. What if both Richard and Mason appeared tonight?"

"He didn't tell you because he didn't want to get it wrong," Stefan said quietly. "Damon knows what it's like to be falsely accused."

Elena sighed. "I understand. It's just that you took such a risk, Damon."

"A calculated risk," Damon said as he glanced at his brother. "I have my little brother behind my back. So, there is nothing to worry about."

Stefan grinned. "Yes, brothers forever and all that stuff, right?"

Damon grinned too. "Yes, brothers forever."

x x x

"Good morning," Damon said with a grin as he walked into the kitchen where Elena, Caroline and Stefan were gathered at the table, looking serious. "What's happened that I don't know about?"

Elena nodded to the folded newspaper lying on the kitchen table. "Have you opened that paper yet?"

"No," Damon said, reaching for the Mystic Falls Daily and snapping it open, "I just woke up, darling. Something wrong?" He glanced at the front page of the paper and froze, momentarily unable to absorb the shock: Pictures of Stefan and Caroline were staring back at him beneath a headline that screamed:

SHERIFF'S DAUGTHER, EX-STUDENT OF MYSTIC FALLS ACADEMY MARRIED PYSCHIC MILLIONAIRE

He snatched up the paper, scanning the accompanying story, his jaw clenching.

Last night, police in Mystic Falls, arrested Mason Lockwood, on charges of murder of Jo Parker and April Young. According to Mayor Lockwood, his brother Mason has been troubled by mental-health issues since his childhood. Mason was sent to Mystic Falls Academy which is a special facility for troubled teens. Caroline Forbes, daughter of Mystic Fall's current sheriff is also speculated to attend the Academy during her teenage years. Caroline Forbes, whose impending marriage to millionaire Stefan Salvatore was announced this month. Stefan Salvatore, son of Giuseppe Salvatore is the direct descendant of Joseph Salvatore. Joseph Salvatore, one of the earliest members of the Founding Families was believed to be a psychic with paranormal powers…

With a savage curse, Damon looked up from the story, rapidly calculating the possible consequences of all this, then he looked at his brother, "Richard Lockwood is trying to divert the attention away. Instead of focusing on Mason Lockwood, the media will now come after Caroline and you."

Stefan nodded grimly. "It is a smart move. The Lockwood has a couple of real skeletons in the closet. Richard realised something permanent would have to be done about the problem."

"The media will care about Caroline's troubled childhood because she is the daughter of the sheriff," Elena said as she reached out to hold Caroline's hand. "I'm so sorry."

Caroline shook her head. "It's not your fault, Elena. But this is not good. My mother would be horribly embarrassed. I'm the crazy daughter she would have preferred to keep stashed in the attic." She rubbed her hands over her face. "I can't imagine what she would say."

Suppressing the urge to pull Caroline into his arms and try to comfort her, Stefan touched her arm gently. "We will deal with this together, honey. It's alright."

"Caroline, look at this!" Elena called out as she pointed at the television screen.

Caroline's gaze snapped to the television screen. "Sheriff Forbes," said the newscaster, "called a news conference late this afternoon to comment on reports that his daughter, Caroline Forbes was an ex-student of the Mystic Falls Academy."

Dread made Caroline's hand tighten on Stefan's as her mother's grim, unsmiling face appeared on the television screen. Standing stiffly at the town hall, she read from a prepared statement:

"In response to reports that my daughter's troubled teenage years at the Academy, I deny such allegations. Academy is a special facility for talented students, not for troubled teens, I have to correct. My daughter is a very special and talented woman. She has excelled in school and university. And now she has a wonderful career in Chicago." She paused and looked directly at the camera. "I'm proud of her. I'm proud of my daughter."

"Oh, my God!" Caroline exclaimed. "I can't believe it!"

"In response to published rumours that my daughter is going to marry a psychic billionaire, I will only treat this as a joke. The Salvatore family is one of the Founding Families, one of the well-respected families here in Mystic Falls. I hope I have more opportunity to know my…" Liz paused to self-consciously clear her throat, "my…my future son-in-law and his family."

"Stefan," Caroline cried, clutching his arm in laughing disbelief, "she wants to get to know you and your family!"

Stefan smiled at her while Damon shot her a dubious look that abruptly changed to reluctant amusement as Sheriff Forbes continued. "As everyone now knows, Stefan is a well-mannered and brilliant young man. I can only say that having a man of Stefan Salvatore's calibre as a son-in-law is something that any mother would deem an…" she paused to clear her throat again, and then she absolutely glowered at the camera as she reluctantly but forcefully said, "an honour!"

Caroline stared at the screen as it switched to the sports scores, and her laughter faded as she looked at her husband-to-be, "I can't believe mum will say something like this."

"That was a very nice speech," Elena said. "Caroline, your mum loves you a lot. Family is family."

"Oh." Startled, Caroline took a moment to process that. "Huh."

"That was a very nice speech she made, Caroline," Stefan said. "Elena is right. Family is family."

Damon poured himself a cup of coffee. "Family always stick together, no matter what happens."

Elena grunted in disgust. "Except for the Lockwood family."

"Richard Lockwood believes he could break into politics. That's where the real power is." Damon said as he drank his coffee. "No psychic power is as powerful as the kind that comes with high office."

There was a short silence.

"Caroline," Stefan said eventually. "Why don't you go to see your mum?"

Caroline's eyes widened. "Now?"

Elena nodded. "I like the idea. Call her and meet up with her."

When Caroline hesitated, Stefan touched her arm and said firmly, "The longer you wait, the harder it will become for you and her. Call her, Caroline."

Caroline looked at Stefan and then at Elena before back at Stefan. "Okay," she said shakily. "I'm not sure whether she is keen to meet up."

She walked out of the kitchen to make the call and reappeared so quickly that Elena knew Sheriff Forbes must have hung up on her, and her heart sank. Maybe it wasn't easy to accept your child was a psychic after all.

"What did she say?" Elena managed to get out when Caroline seemed unable to speak.

Caroline cleared her throat as if she felt an obstruction in it, and her voice was strangely hoarse. "She said yes. She wanted to meet Stefan and Damon as well."


	12. Chapter 12

Elena awoke to the knowledge that Damon was no longer in the bed. She opened her eyes and saw him standing at the window. His strong, bare shoulders were silhouetted against the moonlight. His hard face was in shadow.

She sat up against the pillows and wrapped her arms around her knees.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing." Damon looked at her. "I woke up a while ago and couldn't get back to sleep."

Elena looked thoughtful. "We had been through a lot recently. That kind of excitement take some time to get over. I'm not sure I could endure more excitement."

"That's not why I couldn't sleep. I started thinking about some of the missing answers."

"Missing answers?"

"It does feel a lot like a door has been closed somewhere, this time for good. But there is another door still ajar. It is not over yet," Damon said. He turned away from the window and moved back toward the bed.

She looked worried. "Not over yet?"

"Why did Jo Parker buy the Destiny Stone? Her research had never involved gemstones. Why change of interest out of a sudden?"

"You think Jo knew about the secrets of the Destiny Stone, don't you?"

"I think there's a strong possibility of that, yes." He looked at her. "Someone might be pressuring her into researching on the stone."

Elena stilled. "Logan Fell?"

"I don't think it's Logan Fell." He turned to look at the window again. "If he was the one pressuring Jo to get the stone, why did he blackmail Isobel?"

"You are right." She frowned. "Then who would it be?"

"Richard Lockwood," he said dryly.

She looked shocked. "What?"

"Mason Lockwood had to kill Jo because he didn't want anyone to know about his time at the Academy. He didn't kill her because of the Destiny Stone," he explained. "Jo had bought the Destiny Stone because someone wanted it."

"And you think Richard Lockwood is the one who wanted it?"

"Yes."

"But I thought you said Richard is not a talent."

"But he knows about the secrets of the Destiny Stone. The gemstone is worth a fortune," he said. "Politics is an expensive pursuit."

"The Lockwood campaign did a lot of media. The television commercials must have cost a fortune."

"The ads wiped out most of the war chest. Richard knew going in that they would be expensive, but you can't win elections without television." He paused. "Richard probably figure if he got to the stone first he could use it to fund for his campaign."

"Even if you are right, Richard has to know his campaign is almost finished because of what Mason did and he can't win the election. Plus, the stone is no longer with Jo."

"He needs more money. It's obvious that he will start looking for someone to help finance his political career."

"Maybe he will give it up eventually. I don't think anyone will be eager to pump more money into another political race of the Lockwood given what Mason Lockwood had done."

"Don't count on Richard giving up easily."

"Okay," she said. "What are you going to do next?"

"I will keep an eye on Richard and his campaign to make sure there aren't any more loose ends."

"Right," she said quietly. "Then you will move on after this case is closed."

He reached for Elena and drew her across his chest. "There is something I need to do once this case is closed."

"What's that?"

"I haven't used any protection when I'm with you recently. Not even once."

"Oh." Her eyes lowered to his chest. "Not even tonight, either."

He touched the corner of her mouth. "It doesn't really bother me at all."

Her head snapped up. "Meaning?"

"Elena," he said very carefully, very distinctly, "nothing on this planet would give me as much pleasure as getting you pregnant."

She froze. Her mouth went dry. "Damon."

"That is not, however, what I want to discuss with you tonight. Now listen to me and then answer truthfully."

She nodded.

"I love you, Elena. I have since that night in Chicago. It was as if I had been waiting for you all of my life and you had finally decided to show up."

Joy flowed through Elena, bringing a rainbow of colours. "But I thought you were looking for some hot sex that night," she teased. "No strings attached."

"That's what I told myself at the time, but after you left the next morning, I realized I was wrong."

"And just how did you figure that out?"

He smiled and twined a strand of her hair around his finger. "Because it dawned on me that if I couldn't have you, I didn't want to have anyone else. How long is it going to take for you to figure out that you love me?"

"Oh, I fell in love with you that night, too," she said.

"Is that right?" He looked pleased.

"I knew from the start that you were the one I had been waiting for. But I had my worries."

"You were worried that I only wanted hot sex."

She cleared her throat. "I have never been one to take risks when it comes to romantic relationships."

"Oh, yeah, right. The commitment-and-trust-issues thing."

"Yes. My past relationships didn't go well because I was pretty sure that I was just waiting for the right man to walk into my life. I knew I would recognize him, you see."

Damon traced her bottom lip with one finger. "Did you?"

"The instant I walked inside the restaurant and saw you sitting there that first day. I recognized you, but I told myself I had gotten it all wrong. There was so much drama going on all around us. Everything was happening way too fast. For Pete's sake, we had sex the first night that we were together. I never do things like that."

"We made love that first night. Big difference."

"Sure, but at the time all I could focus on was the weird feeling that there was some kind of psychic connection forming between us. It was very confusing. I was afraid to trust what my senses were telling me. But now I know that what was really going on was that I was falling head over heels in love with you."

He drew her mouth down to his. Elena felt him open his senses. She responded, heightening her own talent. The kiss was dark and profound, the kind of kiss that sealed a vow.

The heat built quickly. Energy burned in the room. Damon rolled Elena onto her back and came down on top of her. She pulled him close, savouring the weight of him crushing her into the bedding. The power that charged his aura challenged and aroused and thrilled her in ways that she could not begin to explain or understand. She knew on some level that he was as compelled and captivated by her energy as she was by his.

Damon raised his head so that his mouth was only an inch or so above hers. In the shadows, his eyes heated.

"You and me," he said. "Forever."

She wrapped her arms around him. "Forever."

He took her mouth again. His palm moved up from her stomach and shaped her breast. Elena heard his indrawn breath of satisfaction as the nipple beneath his hand instantly began to tighten.

Her breasts felt swollen and taut as he moved his palm slowly across the tips. A slow tendril of desire was uncurling deep in her loins.

"You feel so good," he breathed, burying his lips against her throat. He put out a hand to cover the dark, tangled thicket at the apex of her thighs. The feel of her was doing incredible things to him. It would be hard to make the passion last because his body was clamouring so loudly for satisfaction. But he wanted it to be good for her.

No, he thought savagely, he wanted it to be the best for her.

"Damon?" Her nails began to bite into the flesh of his shoulders and her legs curled and uncurled restlessly on the bed. When he looked up he saw that her eyes were tightly closed and in the moonlight, he could read the strain of passion on her face.

"Marry me, Elena. Tell me you will marry me."

"Yes, Damon. Yes." She gasped for breath as he began to explore the dampening heat between her thighs. "I love you!"

He stretched out beside her, tangling his legs with hers and finding an intense pleasure in the contrasting textures of their skin. She was so soft, so warm and inviting.

His hand shaped the curve of her thigh and she arched closer, turning her face into his shoulder. He felt the tiny shudder that coursed through her and gloried in the knowledge that his touch had elicited it Slowly, tantalizingly, he clenched his fingers into the resilient flesh of her buttocks.

When she responded by slowly trailing her palm down his chest until she found the flat, lean line of his stomach, Damon thought he would go out of his head. Deliberately he began to urge her legs apart by drawing small, erotic little circles on the outside of her thigh. She wriggled delightfully and he felt her toes, which were lying alongside his calf, begin to curl. The subtle sign of her passion inflamed him and he began to draw the circles much closer to the heart of her femininity.

Then her warm hand trailed shyly lower on his body, cautiously eager for the feel of him. He waited for an instant, aware that he was holding his breath in anticipation of her touch. When it didn't come, he wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her closer, leaning over to whisper darkly, "Don't tease me tonight, lady. I can't take it. Put your hands on me and show me that you want me."

Then he thrust himself against her palm, sighing as she gently clasped the rigid manifestation of his desire. She leaned into his shoulder and sank her teeth lightly into the muscle there. Judd groaned heavily, his blood flowing like fire in his veins.

"Oh, my darling, Damon!"

Her soft words left him hungry for more of the same. He wanted to hear her call his name again and again in passion and he didn't think he would ever get enough of those small cries that came from far back in her throat. She was so exquisitely sensitive to his touch, he thought in pleased wonder, loving the way she moved every time he stroked her here or there or down the inside of her leg.

"Sweetheart, you are wonderful. Like fire in my arms." With his foot, he drew her legs apart slowly. The deep surge of desire in his loins was an ache now that would have to be satisfied soon or he would go crazy.

"Darling Damon, I want you so much!"

Her hands fluttered over him, driving him wild. He couldn't wait any longer. Dropping tiny, biting kisses along her shoulders and down her breasts Damon slowly eased himself over her until his shoulders blocked the path of moonlight to her face. In the shadows, he could see the way she watched him from beneath passion-heavy lashes, her eyes deep with mystery and feminine desire.

He moved against her softness, seeking to bury himself in her warmth. She cried out as he took her completely, the impact of his body making itself felt on hers. For an instant he froze, fearful that he had hurt her, but when he scanned her face he realized she was too far lost in the realm of physical sensation to care, and then she was clinging to him.

The feel of her nails on his back and of her legs surrounding him was incredibly intense. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. There was no aphrodisiac as potent as mutual hunger and need. Every fibre of his being responded to it.

He rode her body with the driving power that seemed to be flowing in. She called his name in short, breathless tones just the way he wanted to hear it He felt her slender frame tighten and knew that he was going to be able to satisfy her fully. The knowledge thrilled him.

At the height of her response he saw the way her eyes squeezed shut and she clamped down on her lower lip with her own teeth. Then the tiny, delicate ripples of satisfaction began deep within her. He felt them at once and held himself in check so that he could enjoy her fulfilment before giving in to his own.

"Let go, sweetheart," he muttered. "Just let go. Let it take you."

As if his insistent voice were all the urging she needed to send her over the edge, Elena shuddered in his arms and gave herself up to the finale of their passion.

"Damon, oh, please, Damon…"

He could resist no longer. With a half-stifled shout of exultant satisfaction Damon followed her over the brink and into the drifting velvet beyond.

A long time later she awoke to the chimes of her phone.

"What in the world?" she said.

Damon levered himself up on one elbow. "Your phone."

"Yes, I figured that much out all by myself."

She grabbed the phone off the bedside table and looked at the glowing screen.

"It's Bonnie," she said.

"At this hour?" Damon grumbled. "It's four o'clock in the morning."

Elena took the call. 'Maybe something important has come up."

"Hi Bonnie, what's up? I thought you are still in Mexico…" she began.

"Gilbert, shut up and listen to me." It was a man's voice. "I have Bonnie."

"What?" Elena's stomach clenched. "Please tell me this is some kind of really sick joke."

"Give me that damn stone and I will let Bonnie go."

Elena's face paled with anxiety. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"I know you have the stone. If you don't give me that damned stone, Bonnie Bennett will die. Bennett's life is in your hands."

x x x

"You said we needed a plan," Elena said. "I just gave you one."

"It's a lousy plan," Damon said.

She raised her chin. "Got a better one?"

Damon shook his head. "No. And yours just might work if we tweak it a bit."

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Caroline asked. "I'm worried about you, Elena."

"I will be fine." Elena reassured her. "I promise I will bring Bonnie back."

"We will be your backup," Stefan said.

Damon looked at Elena. "Yeah, I will keep you safe. I'm not going to let anyone harm you."

Elena smiled. "I know."

x x x

Bonnie was slumped in a chair in the yacht's main cabin. Her wrists were fastened behind him. Her legs were bound to the legs of the chair. She had been gagged by something fabric, maybe a handkerchief, that had been twisted into a tight rope and placed in her mouth like a horse's bit. She could push her tongue against it, but she couldn't work her jaw. She looked up when Elena walked on board. Disbelief flashed across her face.

The good-looking, dark-haired man with the gun grabbed her hair causing Bonnie to grimace. "Stop moving!" he demanded. "Don't try to do your magic stuff!"

"Bonnie!" Elena whispered. She looked at the man next to Bonnie. "Richard Lockwood."

"Stay where you are, Gilbert," Richard said. "Give me that damn stone."

Elena stopped just inside the cabin, holding a steel box in her hands.

"Jo bought the Destiny Stone because of you," Elena said.

"So, you figured that out, did you?" Richard looked amused.

"Damon is the one who worked out your motive."

"I see. Well, no harm done. When this is over, I will disappear and all that money." He chuckled. "Not the outcome I had planned, but it will do for now. Money changes everything, you see. And there's plenty of it waiting for me when I get hold of the stone."

"You had it all planned, hadn't you? What did you do to persuade Jo to get the stone for you?"

"Jo Parker was completely obsessed with her paranormal research. She was flat-out crazy in the woo-woo stuff. It was easy to manipulate her."

"How did she learn about the gemstone?"

"The rumours of the Destiny Stone have had four hundred years to turn into a legend. Jo picked up the whispers of the Destiny Stone a year ago, and started doing some serious research. I told her about the possible link of the Destiny Stone and mind control. The next thing I knew, she was trying to buy the gemstone online from the blackmarker."

"Why didn't you get the stone yourself if you want it so badly?"

"I'm the Mayor of Mystic Falls, Gilbert. I can't be associated with the woo-woo stuff."

The sudden anger in his voice made both Bonnie and Elena look at him.

"We were so close. So damned close," Richard said bitterly.

"Mason killed Jo Parker," Elena said quietly. "You didn't expect him to kill Jo."

"Mason was crazy to kill Jo. I put him in the campaign because I thought he could help me with his paranormal power." Richard's voice roughened with tightly controlled rage. "Didn't figure he was a walking time bomb. I shouldn't have trusted him."

"You need money to run your campaign and you know the gemstone is worth a fortune. But you hadn't get hold of the stone yet because Jo was already murdered by Mason."

"You put it all together. I'm impressed," he said. "Now give me that stone and you both can walk away from this meeting alive."

Elena shook her head. "What if you are lying about letting us go?"

Richard gave Elena a warm, charming smile. "I don't want to have to kill anyone. All I want is the gemstone. Once you have given me the stone, we will take a short cruise. I will put you and Bonnie ashore on one of the uninhabited islands nearby. It may take you a while, but sooner or later you will manage to flag down a passing boat. Plenty of time for me to disappear."

"What if we go to the police?" Elena said.

Richard shrugged. "They wouldn't believe you. There was no ransom paid. No money changed hands. Who would believe the mayor of Mystic Falls would kidnap a witch? Now let me see the stone."

"Aren't you afraid the media would make a big story out of this kidnapping story?"

"When Mason was caught, I knew the campaign was finished. But it doesn't matter. It is not possible for me to run for office, at least not in the upcoming election. The public will need time to forget. I can wait. Money would go a long way toward building a new image," Richard mused.

"Right."

"Show me the stone," Richard demanded.

"You promise you will let us go?"

"I promise," Richard said. Anger flashed in his cold eyes. "I told you, I have no reason to kill either of you."

"What are you going to do with the stone?" Elena asked. "Who are you planning to sell it to?"

"That's none of your business, Gilbert." Richard aimed the gun at Bonnie. "Give me the stone or I will kill her."

"No." Elena said. "You said you wouldn't hurt her. I will give it to you."

"Give it to me now," Richard snarled.

Elena held out the box. "Here, take the stone and let us go."

Richard reached for the box, ignoring her plea. His fingers closed around the box. Elena let go of the box and reached inside the pocket of her jacket. She found the device and pressed onto the button.

Pain scorched his nerves and his senses for what seemed like an eternity. Richard stiffened. His eyes widened in dawning horror.

"No," he screamed. "You can't do this to me. I will kill you first, I swear it."

He dropped the box and moved back a few steps.

"Bitch," he screamed as he turned the pistol towards her.

Damon came through the doorway, the Destiny Stone on his ring glowed. Paranormal lightning crackled across the small space, igniting Richard's aura. Ultralight flames blazed. Richard jerked and twitched and writhed. In the next instant, he crumpled to the floor.

Caroline and Stefan barged into the cabin.

"Everyone okay?" Stefan asked as he scooped up the steel box. "Did my new invention work?

"Yeah, your bug zapper did work," Damon answered dryly.

"Oh Bonnie!" Caroline rushed towards Bonnie. "Are you okay?"

Bonnie nodded as Caroline stepped around to the back of her chair and cut through the tape binding her hands and legs. When her hands and legs were free, Bonnie removed the fabric in her mouth.

"Oh, God, Elena, I thought he was going to kill you," Bonnie said as Caroline helped her up from the chair. "You saved my life."

"Is he dead?" Caroline asked.

Stefan shook his head as he reached down and put his fingers on the man's throat. "There is still a pulse. My device doesn't kill people. He will recover in time. Relax. According to my design calculations, there won't be any permanent damage."

"Great. Wonderful. I'm so relieved to hear that," Damon said. Then he looked at Elena. "I told you this was a bad plan," he said.

"I thought it all went quite well," she said. Her voice sounded far too high and thin.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, as though fearing she might fly away.

x x x

"I don't get it," Bonnie said to Damon. "How did you guys manage to sneak up on Richard Lockwood? He watched Elena's arrival with his binoculars and made sure that she was the only one who came ashore from the floatplane. That island wasn't much larger than a big rock. We would have heard even a very small outboard engine."

They were back at Caroline's house. Damon had used his phone to summon the floatplane that had been standing by to pick them up. The pilot was a friend of Giuseppe. He had asked no questions about the unusual charter.

Elena sat in a chair near the hearth. Caroline had made coffee for everyone. Liz was following the conversation with sharp-eyed attention.

"We came partway out on one of the whale-watching charters," Damon said. "Figured Richard wouldn't be overly concerned if he happened to catch sight of a boat full of sightseers in the distance."

"I understand," Bonnie said. "But how did you get the rest of the way to the island?"

"Kayak," Damon said. "They make almost no noise. We came ashore on the far side of the island and walked the rest of the way. We stayed out of sight and kept an eye on things from the trees. The plan was for me to move in as soon as Elena activated Stefan's device. We knew that even if she couldn't take him down with the device, she would probably be able to distract him long enough for me to get on board."

Bonnie shook her head. "I still don't understand this whole Destiny Stone thing. How did Elena active the stone by using Stefan's device?"

"The box was empty. It is one of Stefan's new inventions which works like an electroshock gun," Elena explained. "The Destiny Stone Jo bought online is now kept in the vault at the Salvatore Research Laboratory."

"The stone is too powerful and dangerous," Damon said. "It is kept in a safe place now."

"It was a trap, wasn't it?" Bonnie asked. "Oh God! It was a big risk you had taken on, Elena."

Elena smiled at her. "We are family, Bonnie. The three of us – Caroline, you and me. Nothing will ever change it."

Bonnie looked touched. "Elena."

"But I'm sure you can take him down easily if you weren't tied down," Elena said. "You and your magic spells."

"Maybe you can make him disappear into thin air," Damon teased. "Whoosh and then gone. Just like that."

Everyone laughed. Bonnie threw a pillow at him.

"Hey, it isn't funny. My magic spells do work," Bonnie exclaimed. "I couldn't cast a spell because I couldn't speak!"

Stefan picked up his coffee cup. "What happened to Richard Lockwood?"

"He will be charged with kidnapping and attempt murder," Liz said. "He won't be seen in Mystic Falls for a very long time."

"It must have caused a major stir in Mystic Falls," Caroline said as she sat beside Stefan. "First Mason Lockwood. Now the mayor of Mystic Falls."

"The ex-mayor," Liz corrected. Then she looked at the three women. "I'm wrong about you girls. There is something to this whole paranormal thing, isn't there?"

Elena smiled. "What makes you believe that?"

"After all these years and what had happened recently, I realise there are things that can't be explained. I was stubborn and refused to accept this whole paranormal thing. I wasn't fair to you girls in the past. I kept on thinking you girls were delusional and trying to get attention."

"In hindsight, I have to admit that you had some reason to be concerned," Caroline said. "I was just coming into my talent. I had no idea what I was doing."

"Same for both Bonnie and I," Elena said. "We weren't sure what was going on with ourselves. Our talents did scare the daylights out of us at that time."

"But everything is alright now, isn't it?" Stefan said.

"You are right," Liz said. "Everything is alright now."


	13. Chapter 13

"Are you sure everything is ready at the church?" Stefan demanded of Damon as he quickly shoved the tiny studs into the front of his tuxedo shirt.

"Everything is ready, but you, little brother," Damon said with a chuckle.

"Is everyone here? Where's mum and dad?"

"They are at the church."

"What about Bonnie and Elena? Are they ready yet?" Stefan continued, staring in the mirror and fastening his black tie. "

"Bonnie and Elena will make sure Caroline get to the church on time."

Stefan shrugged into his black tuxedo jacket. "What about Alaric and Isobel?"

"They arrived last night. They should be in the church by now."

Stefan ran a hand over his jaw to ascertain that his shave was close enough. "What time is it?"

"Ten minutes to four. You have ten minutes to get to the church. Liz is already there. On the way, I will go over the part you were supposed to have learned during rehearsal last night."

"I have already had a full-dress rehearsal," Stefan said dryly. "I have been through this once before, remember?"

"There are a few major differences," Damon pointed out with a grin.

"Really, what?"

"Last night was a rehearsal, but today is the real deal."

x x x

"You look beautiful," Elena whispered to Caroline.

They were in a small room at the back of the church in Chicago. Elena was making final adjustments to the elegant folds of Caroline's satin and lace gown. Through the open French doors, they could see that the rows of linen-draped bench on the groom's side of the aisle were filled.

All the Salvatore family and friends had been invited to the ceremony and the reception. But the bride's side was not empty. Liz Forbes had shown up. Even Bonnie's mother and her grandmother had turned up for the wedding.

Elena knew that Caroline had been genuinely touched when Matt Donovan had agreed to walk her down the aisle.

"Why am I nervous?" Caroline asked. "I shouldn't be nervous."

"Brides are always nervous," Elena said.

"How would you know that? You have never been a bride. Wait until it's your turn. We will see who's nervous."

Matt appeared at the doorway of the room where Caroline and Elena waited. He always looked good, Elena thought. But he was especially dashing and sophisticated in his new, elegantly cut tux.

He smiled at Caroline and Elena. In a rare show of emotion, moisture glinted in his eyes.

"I have the most beautiful friends in the world," he said, his voice uncharacteristically husky.

"And we have the most handsome friend on the planet," Elena said.

"I'm happy for you, Caroline," Matt said. "You are getting a real family."

"I have already got a real family—Bonnie and Elena are as real as it gets. And I know you will always be there to support us," Caroline said. "I couldn't ask for a better family. I'm just adding on a husband and a few new relatives today."

"Things will be different now, though," Matt said.

"No, they won't." Caroline stepped forward and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Nothing will ever change what we have."

"We will always be friends," Elena said. She kissed Matt's other cheek and stood back.

"Okay, then." Matt looked satisfied. He blinked away the sheen of tears and offered his arm to Caroline. "Let's do this. I think Stefan is getting nervous."

"Nothing makes Stefan nervous," Caroline said.

"Trust me, the possibility that you might run off and leave him standing at the altar is more than enough to scare the living daylights out of him," Matt said. "Speaking personally, I sort of enjoy that look of incipient panic in his eyes."

Elena smiled. "But it's not going to last long because Caroline is not going to leave him at the altar."

"No." Caroline wrapped one white-gloved hand around Matt's arm. "Never."

The musical cue sounded.

"Here we go," Elena said. She gave Caroline one last sisterly kiss, careful not to spoil the bride's makeup, and picked up the basket of flowers.

x x x

There was another major difference between the rehearsal last night and this one, and despite his offhand remark, Stefan knew it. He knew it even before he stepped out in front of a smiling crowd in a church aglow with candlelight and perfumed with lavish bouquets of white roses tied with white satin ribbons. There was a reverence in him this time, a sense of quiet joy, as he waited for Julie at the altar. He watched Elena walk down the aisle toward him wrapped in a beautiful purple lace gown, smiling and serene, as if she, like Stefan sensed the absolute rightness of what was about to happen. The organ music swelled to a crescendo, and Stefan felt as if his heart would burst at the sight that greeted him.

Starting toward him in a drifting swirl of white appliquéd silk with a cloud of veil trailing behind her was the woman he had laughed with and loved. She moved through the candlelight, her face glowing, and in her eyes he saw all the love in the world, the promise of his unborn children, a lifetime filled with all the joy she had to give.

Stefan smiled at Caroline as he was waiting at the altar but he was not alone. His best man, Damon, was there, as well.

Damon never took his eyes off Elena as she walked slowly and serenely down the aisle to take up her place as maid of honour. She smiled at him. The heat of love burned in his eyes.

Stefan reached for Caroline's hand and took it firmly in his, then they turned to the front.

The reverend smiled and raised the book he was holding in his hands. "Dear friends, we are gathered here together, in the sight of God…"

At the front of the church, Giuseppe Salvatore gazed steadily into his wife's eyes; Alaric and Isobel smiled softly at each other. Liz Forbes smiled and wiped the tears away from her eyes.

x x x

The reception in the old mansion at a neighbourhood in Chicago that Caroline and Stefan now called home turned out to be a lavishly festive affair with twinkling lights in the trees and linen-covered tables groaning under an array of beautifully prepared food.

Standing off to the side with Damon, Stefan watched Giuseppe cut in on Matt Donovan, who had been dancing with Caroline.

Damon looked at the plate. "Barbequed ribs," he said dryly, "Mystic Falls style."

"Caroline said the Grill did the best barbequed ribs," Stefan said with a grin.

"Mum and Dad are very happy today. She's captivated all of them," Damon said with an approving grin.

"Especially Dad," Stefan observed. "I'm glad Dad likes Caroline."

"I like her too," Damon chuckled, "although blondie has claws."

"That's what I like about her," Stefan said with a grin. Putting his champagne glass down on the table beside him, he said, "I think it's late enough to claim the dance and then leave."

"In a hurry to start your honeymoon?"

"You wouldn't believe the kind of hurry I'm in," Stefan joked.

Pausing to ask the orchestra leader to play a particular song, Stefan went to retrieve his wife. She abandoned Giuseppe with gratifying speed, coming into Stefan's arms and smiling into his eyes. "It's about time you came to get me," she told him softly.

"Ready to leave?" he asked her as the orchestra's song came to an end.

Caroline was dying to leave, to go away with him and be alone together. She nodded and started to move away, but he shook his head and said in a husky, meaningful voice, "After the next song."

"What song?" she asked in the silence, but he only smiled, and then the song Stefan had asked the orchestra to play began its hot, steady rhythm.

"This one," he said, meaningfully as the seductive words to Elton John's song began to pound in the night.

"Can you feel the love tonight, Caroline?" he asked huskily, beginning to move with her to the beat of the music. "Can you feel my love, darling?"

Caroline fell under the spell of his heavy-lidded eyes and inviting smile within seconds. Oblivious to the crowd who was turning to watch them, she moved closer to him, her body matching the subtle movement of his. He slid his hands around her waist, holding her closer.

"I have felt the love on the first day we met," she answered. "Our love."

Elena stood just inside one of the large, white tents that had been set up for the reception and watched the bridal couple danced.

"Got to hand it to Caroline's wedding planner." Bonnie swirled champagne in her glass. "He pulled the whole thing off without a hitch."

"Yes, it is a beautiful wedding," Matt said. "Caroline looks gorgeous in her dress."

"This is an absolutely gorgeous wedding," Elena said. "Of course, it helps that Caroline and Stefan are so perfect for each other. Look at the way they are gazing into each other's eyes. You can feel the good energy from here."

"They are perfect match," Damon said with an approving grin.

The dance came to a slow, elegant stop. The crowd cheered when Stefan kissed Caroline. Then, abruptly, the musicians changed tempo, the signal that everyone was invited to dance.

"Caroline looks so happy today," Elena said. "Thanks Matt. Thanks for walking her down the aisle. It really meant a lot to her."

Matt smiled. "I'm glad she asked me to. We are buddies, aren't we?"

"Well, you look nice in a tuxedo, buddy," Bonnie said with a grin.

"Elena and you look beautiful too," Matt said. He sipped his champagne and lowered the glass. "Would you like to dance, Bonnie?"

Bonnie flashed a brilliant smile. "Why not?"

"Yes, that's right. At a Salvatore wedding, everyone dances," Damon said. "Remember that."

Everyone laughed.

Both Bonnie and Matt glided away through the crowd.

Damon took Elena's hand.

"Dance with me, Elena?" he asked.

"Certainly." She let him lead her out onto the crowded floor. "I will even promise not to read your mind while we dance."

He pulled her into his arms. "You are welcome to read my mind anytime." He tightened his arms around her. "But you already know what's on my mind now. I love you, Elena Gilbert."

"I love you too, Damon Salvatore."


	14. Epilogue

"All this fecundity is positively nauseating," Bonnie commented drolly.

"What the hell's 'fecundity'?"

Stefan wanted to know.

"Oh, that's rich," Bonnie remarked.

"Especially coming from you."

Damon, Elena, Alaric, Isobel, Bonnie, Liz, Giuseppe and Lilian had gathered at Stefan's mansion to celebrate little Judy's three-week birthday. Everyone else had gorged on German chocolate cake. The baby was greedily sucking her mother's breast behind the screen of a receiving blanket. The proud papa looked on, ready to assist at a moment's notice.

"Know what I can't wait for?"

"Careful, Bonnie," Damon, who had been twirling a strand of Elena's hair around his finger while whispering bawdy things into her ear, paused in those pleasurable pursuits to caution his wife's best friend. "You never learned when to quit."

Ignoring Damon, she continued goading Stefan. "I can't wait till some guy makes a pass at Judy. I want to be there. I want to rub your nose in it, Stefan."

Stefan took the infant from Caroline so she could close her blouse. He glowered at Bonnie. "I will kill any son of a bitch. who even thinks of laying a hand on my daughter. I will kill anyone who even looks like he's thinking of laying a hand on her."

"When did you become so protective, little brother?" Damon asked, joining in. "I was the one who used to save your ass when you were young."

Caroline burst out laughing. Stefan stopped cooing to Judy long enough to consign his brother to hell.

"Stefan, please watch your language," his mother said with a long-suffering sigh. "Remember we have guests here."

"Isobel, Alaric and Liz aren't guests. We know them long enough!" Stefan said with a grin.

Lilian rolled her eyes. She was jealous of anyone who got to hold her granddaughter longer than she did. Once Judy had finished nursing, she crossed the living room, plucked the baby from her father's arms, and carried her back to the rocking chair.

"My goodness, you are getting fat, Judy!" she exclaimed to the child.

"No wonder," Stefan said. He placed his arm around Caroline, who cuddled against him. "She's getting some delicious meals."

"How do you know how delicious they are?" Damon asked with a bawdy wink.

Stefan, not to be outdone, came right back with, "You don't think I'd let my daughter eat something I hadn't sampled first, do you?"

"Stefan!" Caroline exclaimed, horrified.

"Damon! Stefan!" Lilian remonstrated.

Damon threw back his head and roared with laughter, causing baby Judy to flinch.

Stefan assumed an innocent pose. "But Caroline, you begged me to."

"Agh!" Bonnie jumped to her feet. "You two are so disgusting. I can't take any more of this. I will get a drink."

Moments after Bonnie left, Giuseppe stepped into the living room. "Hi, everybody. I saw Bonnie in the kitchen. Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," Lilian said. "Why don't you sit down and chat with us?"

He was offered cake and coffee and had just taken his first bite when Damon began sniffing the air.

"What's that smell?"

He sniffed in Alaric's direction. "Why Alaric, I believe it's you!" he said, feigning surprise. "What are you all spruced up for?"

Alaric choked on his coffee and shot Damon a drop-dead look. Isobel's cheeks blossomed with flattering colour. Damon hadn't spoken a word to anyone, not even Stefan, about seeing his best friend and Isobel in a heated embrace.

But the temptation to tease them about it was too strong to resist. Deep inside his heart, he was happy for both Alaric and Isobel. He knew Elena felt the same as well.

One of the government agencies had contacted the Salvatore Consulting that they could use the expertise and the vast resources of an experienced security consulting firm that had global connections and a very solid cover. Stefan and Damon were thrilled to take on a new client in order to save their business.

Whenever he got discouraged, Elena was his staunchest supporter and cheerleader. Coming to his feet, Damon pulled her up beside him. Placing his arm around her now, he said, "Well, we better get going."

"What for?" Stefan's countenance was as guileless as a cherub's. He batted his eyelashes. "Nap time?"

Ignoring him, Damon leaned over his mother where she sat rocking his new niece and kissed her cheek. "Bye. Thanks for the cake. It was delicious."

"Good-bye, son." Their eyes caught and held.

He knew she was searching for the pain that had resided in his eyes for so long. Finding none, she gave him a beautiful smile, then turned it on the woman who was responsible for his newfound happiness.

"Elena, how are you feeling?"

"Perfectly wonderful, thanks. Damon takes very good care of me. He will hardly let me lift a fork to feed myself."

Once they were in their car and headed home, she said, "They thought I was joking about you not letting me do anything for myself."

Elena had suffered from threaten miscarriage during the first trimester and ever since then he had slept in the same bed with her, holding her close, verbally vowing his love, but prohibited from expressing it physically.

They had resumed their torturous game of unfulfilled foreplay. It was making him crazy, but it was a delicious craziness. His body was constantly abuzz with desire. He moved around in a rosy haze of euphoria that made his nights magic and his workdays more tolerable.

"I have got to protect you and baby." He gave her a meaningful look. "Never, Elena, will anyone come close to hurting you."

"You are the only one who could hurt me, Damon."

"How?"

"If you ever decided you didn't love me."

He reached for her hand, laid it on his thigh, and covered it with his own. "That's not going to happen."

The woods surrounding their house bore the virgin and varied greens of spring. Blooming dogwood trees decorated the forest like patches of white lace. The tulip bulbs that Elena had planted the year before were blooming along the path leading to the front door.

Once inside, Damon moved to the wall of windows and contemplated the view. "I love this house."

"I always knew you would."

He turned around to embrace his wife. "I love it almost as much as I love you."

"Almost?"

He unbuttoned her blouse and pushed the fabric aside. His hands moved over the silk covering her breasts. "You've got a few amenities that are hard to beat."

After a lengthy, wet, deep kiss, she murmured, "I got the go-ahead from the doctor this morning."

Damon's head snapped back. "You mean he said we could…"

"Of course we could. I'm only twenty-six weeks pregnant."

He swept her into his arms and took the stairs two at a time. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because we were invited to Judy's party."

"We wasted two hours over there!"

Once he had deposited her at the side of their bed, he began tearing off his clothes.

Laughing, she helped him. When he was naked, she reached out and stroked him.

He moaned. "You're killing me."

Frantically he removed her skirt and blouse.

She was still in her slip when he lowered her to the bed, laid his head on her belly, and nuzzled her through the silk.

"How's my baby?" he whispered.

"Fine. Healthy. Growing inside me."

"How are you?"

"Deliriously happy, so much in love."

"Lord, so am I." He planted a damp kiss into the giving softness.

"Hmm," she sighed, tilting herself up against his face.

He raised his head and smiled down at her.

"You like that?"

"Uh-huh."

"You are one amazing woman, Elena Gilbert." He pulled her slip up by the lace hem, over her middle, over her breasts, over her head. Bra and panties and stockings were quickly discarded. Seconds later, he was gazing at her with loving approval of all he saw.

"They change colour a little more every day." he remarked, brushing his fingertips across her nipples.

"They do not. You just enjoy inspecting them."

"That's not all I enjoy."

He bent his head and kissed her breasts, raking his tongue back and forth across the delicate peaks until her tummy quivered with arousal. "Damon?"

"Not yet. We have had to wait weeks for this."

He kissed his way down her body, paused to relish the texture and scent of die glossy curls covering her mound, then parted her thighs and kissed her between them.

She sighed his name and clutched handfuls of his hair, but he didn't temper his ardency until his agile tongue had drawn from her a sweet, undulating climax.

Then he rose above her and slowly, considerately, buried himself within the snug, moist sheath of her body. Mindful of her condition, his strokes were long and smooth, which only heightened the eroticism and prolonged the pleasure.

The pleasure was immense. Overwhelming.

Ecstasy eddied around him in shimmering waves that matched the tempo of her gentle contractions.

Yet he couldn't totally immerse himself in it. Because in the back of his mind, behind the physical bliss, he was thinking how marvellous life was, how much he loved living it…how much he loved Elena Gilbert, his wife.

 _THE END_


End file.
